Follow Me Home
by Anbu-chan
Summary: Thorin Oakenshield's birthright is The Lonely Mountain. My name is Eleniel Alunfraad, and my birthright lies within that mountain. I am a mighty Dragon Rider, and Smaug is my dragon. KilixOCxFili
1. Changing Fates

Hello! Anbu-chan here! This is my first fanfiction on this website, and I'm so excited to be sharing it! I hope you all really enjoy it!

I don't own The Hobbit, or Lord of the Rings.

See you at the bottom!

~Follow. Me. Home.~

The sun was just going down over the vast sand dunes, and a cloaked figure pulled their hood closer to protect from the harsh wind. The mysterious form trudged along as a deep dark fell upon the land, remaining undeterred. As the shadowy silhouette continued, a light shone on the horizon.

A deep blue tent that nearly blended with the night sky came into view, a light spilling out through the open flap. Pushing the flap back farther, the individual entered the nomadic tent.

Striking green eyes shone, squinting and adjusting to the light.

"Eleniel... it's about time," A deep voice rumbled.

The cloaked person, now known as Eleniel, rolled her eyes.

"Why hello to you too, Rómestámo."

"Ignore him, love. He missed you too." Eleniel turned to the direction of the owner of the lilting tenor voice.

"Shut up, Alatar."

They chuckled at the grumpy man.

"I haven't heard you two use your Valinor names in _decades, _Morinehtar." She told the tall man.

Said man smiled behind his short beard. "Well, the people here think unlike their kin_._ We just decided to go with our old names."

The only girl in the room nodded her head in understanding. The use of western names would be lost on the people of the south-east.

Rómestámo ushered Eleniel into the room with a wave of his large hand.

"I know you haven't seen us in a few decades, but there's no need to be shy. Come."

She stepped deeper into the tent, and removed the cowl and veil covering her lower face. Deep black hair tumbled down her shoulders, and brushed just below her her waist. She took off her outer cloak and seated herself onto the detailed rug and pillows.

"Now, I've crossed the Rhûn and traveled miles to get here. This isn't just a friendly get-together now, is it?"

Morinehtar and Rómestámo shared a knowing look. The latter sighed and said, "You're too perceptive, little dragon."

Eleniel smiled. Rómestámo let his eyes, as blue as his famous robe, scan her tanned face. She met his eyes, and saw something she didn't like. There was worry in those familiar eyes.

"What worries you, _mellon*?"_

Morinehtar shook his head of blonde hair, and responded for Rómestámo. "We will speak once our last guest arrives."

Eleniel raised a finely arched eyebrow. _Guest...?_

"Hello, good friends." It seemed he was right on time. An old friend stepped into the tent, donned in grey robes. A bright smile lit the young woman's face.

"Gandalf!" She cried.

Gandalf's stormy grey eyes widened in surprise. "Eleniel! My dear, it's been decades."

"Yes, it has." She said as she embraced the man. She led him into the section of the tent where the two blue wizards sat.

"Rómestámo, Morinehtar!" Gandalf greeted other Istari. After greetings had been exchanged, the three men sat down once more.

"Now, what was the point of this meeting, exactly?" Eleniel asked.

Gandalf shot a look at the blue wizards. "You haven't told her?" The two younger men just shrugged their wisest of the Istari gathered sighed.

"It is a rather long story, my dear." She looked him in the eyes and replied, "We have time."

Gandalf sighed once more and said, "There is a darkness stirring in the West once more."

The young woman's green eyes widened but she didn't interrupt.

"I know you do not travel past the Rhûn often…"

"I make a habit not to get caught up in western affairs. Too messy, I tell you."

"Yes, but perhaps you have heard of the fate that befell The Lonely Mountain?"

Eleniel's eyes turned downcast. "I remember that story very well."

The grey clad wizard nodded. "It would appear that the day has come that Thorin Oakenshield wishes to reclaim his birthright. Sinister eyes have turned their attentions to the mountain, and I think it's time something be done about that dragon."

The olive-skinned woman looked cross. "And what do you suggest be done?"

Morinehtar put a pale, comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I suggest you live up to your own birthright and face down Smaug."

All the air left Eleniel in a rush. Then anger filled her.

"Do you mean to tell me I must kill Smaug?! It goes against all that my people are!"

Thankfully, Gandalf remained calm. "No, my dear. I leave the fate of the dragon to you. I am simply saying if you do not find another option, the dragon will be killed either way."

She took a deep breath in and let out a mighty sigh, and Gandalf continued on.

"Smaug is the last of his kind. There would be a deep mourning among your people if the last Firedrake perished."

Eleniel's bright green eyes were sharper than ice as she looked upon Gandalf.

"I always found humor in your ability to convince others, that is, until you used it on me."

Morinehtar and Rómestámo laughed. They certainly understood the young woman's plight, for they had faced down Gandalf's convincing skills and lost as well.

"What would you proposition?"

"It would be a great comfort knowing that you and Rovaazjer are there to watch over Thorin and his company. You may just be able to change the fate of this quest."

~Follow. Me. Home.~

**Hope you liked it!**

_mellon*=friend (Sindarin)_

Please Read and Review!

~Anbu-chan


	2. The Quest Begins!

I do not own Skyrim's Dragon Language, The Hobbit, or Lotr. All belong to their rightful owners!

Enjoy! :)

~Follow. Me. Home.~

The sound of horses whinnying could be heard as two dwarves rode side by side down the dirt path.

Kili rubbed his temples as he stared hard at the parchment in his hand. The messy writing was a poor excuse of Khuzdul. Maybe if he squinted...

"I'm telling you, it says Boggins."

The younger dwarf turned to look at his older brother, who sighed in annoyance. He and Kili had been having this argument ever since they left Ered Luin. Fili loved his brother, but he had to admit he was as stubborn as an ox. He looked over at the map once again.

"Well, I'm telling you it looks more like an 'A' to me."

Kili snorted. "What kind of name is Bilbo anyways? It's ridiculous!"

Fili didn't bother to mention that to a hobbit from the Shire, a queer and frivolous place in his opinion, the names "Fili and Kili" were hardly less strange.

"Anyway, the map says we passed the White Towers. We should be coming up on a river in a few hours, so in any case we'll be there a little after sundown."

Kili nodded in agreement at his brother's statement, but didn't comment. It had been a long day, they both were thirsty and hungry -_that hobbit better have food_\- and neither brother wanted to start up that fight again.

The two brother's continued on in tense silence for another hour or so, until they came across the river.

"See, I told you we were going the right way." Fili smirked at his younger brother.

Kili rolled his eyes and scowled. He loved his brother, but he had to admit, the elder prince had a habit of always being right, always knowing best. Always taking care of Kili. And he didn't mind that...most of the time. Usually he could tolerate it.

Today just wasn't his day.

The two brothers climbed off their ponies, and stepped into the knee deep water. Kili looked at the clear liquid rushing and curling around his knees in distaste. Water was not something dwarves were fond of. They had heavy bodies, and heavy armor, which did not go well with a violent torrent. Dwarrows were made for stone and stability, not the ever-changing fate of water.

The brunette sighed in relief when his heavy shoes hit stable land, and he could tell Fili was just as relieved. Looks like they finally agreed with something, he thought dryly.

Dwarven brothers are bound by more than blood and name, especially in the case of Fili and Kili. They shared their hearts and souls. Best friends and brothers; they were closer than most. Which is why when they fought, or were angry with each other, it was particularly harsh. Neither one liked it and it was painful not to be side by side, laughing and connected.

They both hated arguing but it was just inevitable. They were like night and day in many ways. Fili was always responsible and noble, like the sun. He was reckless, and only reflected the brilliance of his dear brother, like the moon. But even as opposites, one would never be without the other.

Comparing himself to his brother always left a bad taste in his mouth, so he tried not to do it often. He didn't like it when his insecurities made him lash out at his brother. But, it was hard not to compare himself to Fili when it always seemed that Uncle Thorin liked him more. The elder prince, Thorin's heir, the noble brother.

If he was the moon, and Fili was the sun, then his Uncle must be the sky that supported them, Kili thought with slight cheer. This small thought was enough to comfort him and make him remember that he too was a prince of Erebor, and in his own way, Thorin was proud.

A small grin crossed his face, the first true one that day. Fili, who had been watching the emotions fly across Kili's face from the corner of his eye, smiled too.

If something was able to bring his little brother into a good mood, he wouldn't question it. After all, they were in this together.

Fili's striking blue eyes scanned the surrounding areas. Rolling green hills were dotted by round doors, each individually colored with different handles. So different from the homes in the Blue Mountains...and from his uncles old bedtime stories, no where near as breathtaking than the great halls of Erebor.

The golden-haired dwarf had not understood why Hobbits were so content to stay in the same place, until he crossed into the borders of the Shire. It was a quaint, peaceful place, with a beautiful little corner of Middle-Earth the happy people could call their own. While he was more adventurous, Fili could understand the love they had for their well-tended gardens and warm hearths. It was a lot like the love he assumed he would have for Erebor, when they got there.

He looked over at Kili again, who, like him, has been taking in the countryside. Kili noticed him looking and gave his crooked grin that Fili took as a sign to mean all arguments were forgotten.

"Not bad, this." Kili remarked. "Too boring though. Bet we could liven things up quite a bit."

Fili chuckled. His brother had never been one for peace and quiet, always onto the next adventure, Fili right beside him. Kili grinned again at his brother's laugh. Soon they fell into their usual banter or jokes and comments that never ceased to lift his heart and his spirit. Not a thing, not even a silly argument, would ever come between these brothers.

Another hour passed, and those good feelings had started to ebb away once more. Night was drawing closer, but their burglar's home remained hidden. Fili was becoming frustrated.

"Oh for the love of Mahal, where in Durin's name-"

"Fili! Over there!"

Kili slowed his horse and pointed up the road. Up a little ways, they could see the outline of a green door. And just underneath the yellow knocker was a glowing, blue symbol.

"There it is! Thank you brother!" Fili sighed.

They hopped off their ponies and made their way to the door, ringing the bell. It was opened by a rather frazzled tiny man in a colorful robe, with curly hair and hairy feet. The man continued to stare at them in utter shock, so Fili decided to break the ice.

"Fili."

"And Kili."

"At your service," they said together, bowing low.

"Ah." Kili said, that goofy grin plastered on his face. Fili had a feeling he knew what was coming next, with growing ire. Yet at the same time, he had the odd desire to laugh.

"You must be Mr. Boggins!"

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Eleniel growled, scolding herself in her mind.

_How the hell did I let that stupid wizard get to me? I shouldn't babysitting a bunch of dwarves. Him and his sneaky way with words._

The beautiful woman let out another dangerous snarl, making the men sitting next to her inch away slowly. Slamming her small hand down on the wooden countertop, she demanded, "Another," and the barmaid was quick to reply. It took months of constant traveling, even with her speed to get from the Harad Desert to the Shire. After being on the road for weeks on end, she was grumpy.

She tipped her veil back and drank all the ale, then placed a few bronze coins on the table. After, she proceeded to exit with a dramatic flair of her black as night cloak.

Grumbling under her breath, she pulled on the reins of her small pony.

_This little beast is nothing compared to Rovaazjer..._

Said little beast continued to eat her headwrap in content.

With a deep sigh let loose, she climbed aboard her tiny steed, and pushed it forward into a ground-eating canter.

Gandalf had told her to pass the human town of Bree and venture west. She was supposed to meet him in an area of Middle-Earth called the Shire. She'd heard little about the place, because little happened there. Queer folk lived there, all content to spend their days eating and gardening. Though this one was a supposed expert burglar, and that was enough to peak her interest.

Bag-End was her final destination, she remembered. Bag-End, then onto Erebor. To Smaug, the last of the great '_Dovah Yol*'_, or Firedrake. He hadn't been seen in 60 years, so it was no question that curious eyes turned towards that desolate mountain. Many were eager to put their hands on the great treasure of Durin's Folk.

Eleniel scoffed at the thought. She had grown up with stories of dragons, and everyone who was anyone knew better than to hoard so much treasure in such a way. No good had ever come from gold or false power, as Thror had failed to see. No, Eleniel would gain her power through her own hard work, not the dark whispers she caught wind of in her home in the far east.

Her people, the _Dovahzoriik*, _were raised on the principle that if one had love for their family, happiness, and knowledge, that was more than enough.

It was hard for her to put herself in the shoes of greedy men, but if that was the way to keep peace then it would have to do. So much blood has already been shed.

Her brown and white pony tossed his head back in a mighty whiny, and startled her from her musings.

"What...?"

It was then she noticed her surroundings. Long ago she had passed Bree, and while she was deep in thought, her pony had taken her over The Hill and across The Water, finding its way to the Shire on its own.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

_Dovah Yol*= Fire dragon (literal translation) Firedrake (Dovahzul)_

_Dovahzoriik*= Dragonriders (Dovahzul)_

End of Chapter 1, I'm sooo excited!

**Please R&amp;R!**


	3. Singing Dwarves?

Hi everyone! Here's the second chapter to Follow Me Home! Whoot whoot! Thank you to everyone who left comments and favs/follows. Your support is lovely, really. :)

Oh, and for the person who _kindly _left me a _wonderful _review, I have a few things I'd like to say:

First of all, you're leaving a rude comment, _and _using bad grammar. Secondly, I love sibling bonds, and am all for gay rights, but I _will not _write slash or incest, as you're implying. Did you even bother to read my story? It is absolutely disgusting that you even mention that without knowing me as a person, and nothing in the story to go on, and that reflects badly on you. Thirdly, this is the _second chapter, _and you don't have a clue as to what I have planned for this story. You said you'll come back at the 25th chapter when it get's "interesting", but frankly, I'd rather you don't. I've put thought into this, and done a lot of research to make it fun and accurate for my readers. I like my story, and if you don't then don't bother because your opinion is not going to change. I've come to fanfiction to have a good time, please don't ruin it. Good day to you.

Anyway, please, enjoy! Standard disclaimer, I don't own The Hobbit or LOTR. See you at the bottom. :)

~Follow. Me. Home.~

The hobbit hole was extremely comfortable, Kili thought as he stepped over the threshold.

He then looked down at his boots, which were tracking mud all over the floor. He made a face, if he was going to be a guest, then he shouldn't be making it any messier than he already had.

"It's nice, this place." He said as he scraped the mud off onto an old wooden box, trying to get it all off.

"That's my mother's glory box, thank you! Please don't do that!" Bilbo cried, his arms full with Fili's large assortment of knives.

"Fili, Kili. Come here lads, help me set this up, or we'll never get everyone in."

"Mister Dwalin!" Kili said as he walked in, his brother following close behind him, leaving the flustered hobbit standing in the hall.

In less than an hour, 12 dwarves had managed to generously clean out Bilbo's crowded pantry and help themselves to cheese, lamb, sausage links, all of his preserves and they had filled up on his storage of ale. Bilbo's tidy little home was a complete pigsty. They had pillaged the pantry, tracked mud up and down the halls, and the bathroom..._the bathroom_! He would need new plumbing installed immediately.

"Excuse me." a young looking dwarf came up and asked him, holding a couple of plates. "What should I do with my plate?"

Bilbo was about to answer when the blonde dwarf, whose name was Fili, he remembered, walked up from the front hall and took the plate instead.

"Give it here, Ori."

Fili took the plate and threw it down the hall to his brother, who had just come out front smoking his pipe. Kili caught it and immediately spun around to pass it to Bifur at the sink, then back around again to catch the next plate. Time for a little fun…

"No, no, no that's my mother's china! Please be careful!" Bilbo was yelling anxiously, but his attention was diverted when he heard a low thumping from the dining area. He turned and saw four of the dwarves clashing the knives and forks together and stomping their feet. This was getting to be too much!

"Please don't do that! You'll blunt them!"

But this only seemed to encourage the dwarves. In fact, they seemed to be enjoying themselves!

"Oh, you hear that, lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!" the dwarf with the funny hat laughed out.

A chorus of laughter followed, and to Bilbo's complete amazement, they began to sing, all the while throwing his precious plates and silverware around the room.

_Blunt the knives, bend the forks,_

_Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_

_Chip the glasses and crack the plates,_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

_Cut the cloth, tread on the fat, _

_Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!_

_Pour the milk on the pantry floor,_

_Splash the wine on every door!_

_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl,_

_Pound them up with a thumping pole!_

_And when you've finished, if any are whole,_

_Send them down the hall to role!_

The dwarves continued throwing the plates around with fervor, and Bilbo didn't know which way to turn. Afraid for the worst, he ran into the kitchen expecting the horrible mess the dwarves had sung.

"_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" _

They yelled, roaring with laughter at his face when he saw the dishes stack neatly on the table and in the sink, not a single chip or crack in anything.

For such loud and rambunctious folk, Bilbo had to give them credit. They were actually very nimble and handy and tidy when it came down to it. He was about to make a comment when there was a deep, booming knock at the door. Immediately, the 12 dwarves and Gandalf were cowed, and the whole atmosphere became serious and apprehensive, like something of great importance was about to happen. It was silent for a few beats before Gandalf finally spoke.

"He is here."

Bilbo felt that the night had only just begun, and like it or not, after tonight, nothing would ever be the same again. He scurried to the door, the dwarves and the wizard following slowly behind him. Bilbo opened it to reveal a very proud looking dwarf, whose eyes seemed to judge him and the hole he lived in.

Thorin Oakenshield had come at last.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

The distant light of the stars twinkled above Eleniel as she walked up the twisted pathways of the Shire. It was an interesting place, she'd admit. Hobbits lived inside the hillside like dwarves inside mountains or elves in the wood. But she was looking for only one particular hobbit hole.

Her sharp, brilliant green eyes searched the for the picturesque little home. A blue rune stood out in the darkness, and it was easy to tell it was of dwarvish make. Yup, this was definitely the right place.

She had let her pony free when she reached the gate, knowing if it got her there, it would certainly come back. She was about to knock when she heard singing.

"Singing?" She whispered aloud, moving towards the nearest window.

Inside, she saw a charming sitting room and a fire ablaze in the hearth, clearly meant for comfort. Gathered all around were 13 dwarves, who she assumed would be The Company of Thorin Oakenshield Gandalf had mentioned. She noticed that all the dwarves seemed to be humming a deep, resonating note. An imposing dwarf by the fire, staring deep into it's depths as if it would relay the future, Thorin, the majestic dwarf she surmised, began to sing.

_Far over, the Misty Mountains cold._

_To dungeons deep, and caverns old._

_We must away, 'ere break of day,_

_To find our long forgotten gold._

_The pines were roaring, on the height._

_The trees were moaning, in the night._

_The fire was red, it flaming spread._

_The trees like torches, blazed with light. _

Slowly, one by one, other dwarves joined in singing. When the song came to a close, she moved away from the window, very reluctant to break the spell the song cast upon her.

The song was deep and powerful. The song spoke of a desperate longing and the deep mourning of a race as a whole. These dwarves clearly weren't messing around about reclaiming Erebor, and defeating Smaug, no less. Was she really about to impose upon their quest in a desperate chance to save the beast that destroyed their life? Eleniel wanted to scoff at the irony of the situation.

She couldn't muster the bravery to knock on the modest door, and impose on such a personal scene. No, not right away. Eleniel moved from the door and back into the shadows to her pony. She would follow them at first light, see them all -hobbit included- in action, and what kind of folk she would be traveling with, if at all. Maybe, once she saw what they were capable of, then she would reveal herself. Maybe she could redeem the mistakes of her people once and for all. Maybe…

Eleniel found her runty pony chewing on the lush green grass of a little hill. As she continued to stare at the scruffy creature, she found that the little beast was beginning to grow on her.

The exotic woman grabbed a few colorful wildflowers in her dainty hands, and then wove them into small braids in her scrap of a horse steed.

Letting a gentle smile cross her face, she settled down into the plush grass for sleep. The pony sat nearby, and the stars watched over her, steadfast companions no matter where she went in the world.

She slipped quietly into sleep with the tender caress of the breeze and the soft whispers of dragons from long, long ago.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review! It fuels me to write more! :)

~Anbu-chan


	4. From Where We Come

Hi! Here's the next chapter to "Follow Me Home!" Thank you everyone for all the favorites/follows and lovely reviews. I hope you enjoy!

I don't own The Hobbit, or Skyrim. See you at the bottom!

~Follow. Me. Home.~

No matter how old he got, Fili always felt like a little dwarfling sitting on his Uncle Thorin's knees whenever he heard him sing that song. It sent shivers spiralling down his spine, and made him yearn for a home he had never seen.

He knew half of the feeling came from his companions around him, but that didn't stop himself from imagining the great dwelling of his ancestors. He closed his cornflower blue eyes, and the halls of Erebor stood before him. The imposing dwarf statues guarded over the abode of many dwarves, faces stoic and proud. He could imagine stepping through those grand gates with a strange familiarity for someone who had never been there before in his life. His azure eyes would scan the walls carved from the mountain itself, veins of pure mithril pulsing with life, and gems reflecting the torch lights.

"Hey, Fili…"

The eldest brother turned his beautiful eyes to meet soulful brown ones.

"Yes, Kili?" He asked softly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful quiet.

"Well, I don't know… You looked so happy. I just wanted to know what you were thinking about..."

The blonde smiled softly at his little brother's confession. Wrapping his thick arm around the brunette's shoulder, he pulled him in close and stared at the fire.

"I was thinking about how beautiful Erebor must be, and what it will be like back in our rightful home, with Thorin as King Under the Mountain and us by his side."

Kili stared at the profile of his dear brother. Looking at him in that moment, the firelight dancing across his face, Kili couldn't remember why he and Fili had fought earlier.

Sighing in content, he said, "I look forward to laying my eyes on the halls of our forefathers, with you by my side." He lay his head briefly on his brothers' strong shoulder, and closed his eyes, listening to the soft tune his Uncle was playing on the harp.

Fili let a wide grin cross his face and crinkle his gentle eyes.

"Aye, I wouldn't have it any other way."

Meanwhile, Thorin looked over at his nephews by the fire. Fili had his arm wrapped around his younger brother. He was proud of them both. This journey was a quest for their inheritance, the kingdom of their ancestors. Despite Thorin not wanting them to come originally, they were ready. Both were strong fighters and brave, though Kili could be a little reckless at times. He only meant well. He trusted them with his life. They were his pride and he would protect them until the end of their quest and they were all safe in the halls of Erebor.

He let the ice in his clear blue eyes melt away as he stared at his beloved sisters sons. The melancholy, mournful tune his fingers wove across the strings of his harp turned a tad more joyful.

He had a good feeling about this quest, though Gandalf did not seem to share his feelings. Then again, the wizard wanted to add a soft hobbit to the company. It was clear to Thorin that the wizard had smoked a bit too much pipe weed. But it would all end well, he supposed. It was getting late, and in a few hours they would start off, with or without Bobo or whatever his name is. He will reclaim Erebor, no matter the cost. Smaug's reign of terror and destruction will finally come to an end.

He could almost see it again...the vast, glorious halls; the gems and jewels strewn throughout the chambers, the Arkenstone…

He sighed, pulling his thoughts from the dark depths of his mind, and placed a blanket on Balin, who had nodded off some time ago. He made his way to his pack, where he settled in for sleep. He listened with only half an ear to the hushed murmurs of Nori and Dori, finding comfort in the familiarity and ease of the atmosphere and the people around him.

He began to sleep, surrounded by companions who had loyalty, honor, and willing hearts. Just as he was about to enter Lórien's realm of dreams, he felt his nephews bodies on either side of him, making him feel protected and loved, as he hoped they felt. As he hoped all of his companions felt.

With those final thoughts, drawing comfort and warmth from his nephews and the thought that Erebor would soon once again belong to the dwarves, Thorin fell into a deep slumber.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

The cheerful sun, and a gentle nudge from her pony roused her from her slumber. Blinking in slight confusion, Eleniel glanced at her unfamiliar surroundings in a slight haze. The events of the last days, traveling at an incredibly fast pace to get to the far west of Middle-Earth, all of it came rushing back. She leapt to her feet, suddenly nervous that she had missed the dwarves leave for their quest.

She ran to the front of the hobbit hole in time to see their ponies trailing far off on the winding path.

Perfect.

She raced back to her pony and started to bring it around to mount it, when all of a sudden, the front door slammed open. Out ran the hobbit, red tailcoats flying, with a satchel on his back and a long trail of parchment fluttering after him. Eleniel started in astonishment and laughed. A fellow hobbit down the lane yelled after him.

"I say, Bilbo, where are you going?"

"I'm going on an adventure!"

Huh. Who would have thought it, a halfling on a dwarves quest.

The young woman stayed where she was hiding until the queer hobbit disappeared into the distance. Only after she was sure Bilbo would not return, did she remove her face veil and begin to proceed forwards. It would do her no good to follow the company from a close distance. She was much better at tracking anyway.

Eleniel knew the dwarves would stick to the forests, so she decided to mozy around Hobbiton for the time being. She pulled her horse down the path of Bag-End, admiring all the beautiful gardens and homes she passed by.

Two small, curious faces of sweet hobbit children watched her from the safety of their mother's skirts. Eleniel smiled fondly, and said, "A good day to you ma'am." to the curly haired woman. The stranger then wiggled her gloved fingers at the two children with ruddy and rounded cheeks. They continued to stare at her, and she could feel their eyes on her back. It was highly likely that Eleniel had been the first woman they had seen who was not a hobbit maiden. As she wandered, more and more hobbits peeked out to view the strange and darkly garbed wanderer. The young Dragon Rider's green eyes crinkled in a smile. These creatures were so innocent and curious, like dragon hatchlings.

Her thoughts turned to the strange little hobbit. He seemed at first glance to prefer to stick to his books and delicious dinners, but she could admit he was not what he seemed. The little creature reminded her very much of her littlest brother, Urúvion; small but nurturing a raging fire of dragons within.

She felt a swell of endearment at the thought of her little brother, and his dark head of curly black hair, and his sparkling blue eyes. He and the hobbit were both gentle folk, that much was clear, and she did not want anything to stain that. Just the thought of Urúvion getting hurt made her heart ache. With a start, she realised that at least someone, would miss the sweet, little hobbit who was so brave as to go on such a dangerous journey. She didn't want anyone to lose their son, uncle, friend, whatever he may be. While Eleniel knew she would have to face the company in order to face Smaug, it didn't mean she really liked them just yet. But the hobbit, he was a different story. She would not let him get hurt.

"Well, now there is no way I can miss this!" Eleniel chuckled exasperatedly at her own soft heart, and started her steed down the path in pursuit of the company with a cry of, "Hiya!" The company would have about four hours of distance, but she knew she would be able to get there quickly if she pushed. Eleniel didn't plan on it, though. She did not prefer to rush, for it was not something her clan did. Her clan believed that if you rushed in life, you would miss all the good things, and opportunities that happened to you.

She stuck close to the shadows so that no one saw her, and followed the signs of the forest that told her where the company had been. She was slowly but steadily catching up to the loud dwarves, as she could already hear their merry talking from very far away.

Eleniel stood slightly south-east of the company, flanking them to their right. She shushed her pony, and followed as closely as she dared, which wasn't very close at all. She watched in utter amusement as she spotted the hobbit on a pony, looking entirely uncomfortable with the situation.

Looks like she wasn't the only one who didn't prefer ponies as a method of travel. She much desired scales beneath her hands and wind in her hair.

She was attempting to hold back a snort at Bilbo's terrified look; when sudden movement caught her eye. Gandalf, clad in his usual attire, was staring straight at her. He smiled under his beard and winked at her, before turning around again as if nothing had happened. It was such a small gesture, and so swift in execution, she could have sworn it had never happened. But her heightened dragon senses had never proved her wrong before, and they weren't about to now either.

She chuckled quietly to herself once more, before she let the shadows erase her existence. From her veil of darkness, she looked on.

It was easy for her to see they were a joyful bunch, loud and happy and very much unlike what she would have expected Durin's Folk to be. She tried to catch all their names several times, but it was harder than she thought since most of them sounded quite alike.

"What is with the rhyming names? It's like they _want_ to confuse people. " Eleniel muttered aloud.

_Typical dwarves, always keeping their secrets. _She thought dryly.

The only one she knew by sight out of the thirteen was Thorin Oakenshield. He was a proud looking dwarf, always deep in thought, with a gruff, low voice that seemed to pierce your very soul. He lead the company along their path with steadfast confidence, hardly stopping or ever looking back. This trait was something her people admired. Her mother always told her lessons in a stern voice, "_Little dragon, you cannot see the next lesson life gives you if you only have eyes for the past,"_ She remembered fondly, and how true those words were.

These dwarves were quite entertaining. Some were serious, while some were merry and carefree. Others looked rather weathered and harsh, and one was extremely fat. In all her years, in all her travels, she had never come across a band of dwarves so comedic as these.

She had only ever known the dwarves in the east, who from what she could tell with her growing knowledge, where much more different than the ones before her now.

She had come into contact with three of the four clans of dwarves that resided on the vast plains of the Rhûn, and had visited briefly in the other which resided in the vast colds of Forodwaith. Each clan was entirely unique and wonderful.

The Stiffbeards lived in the far north. They were a wonderful, hardy group of people who faced the bitter cold in their well built stone homes. They were master's of masonry due to the lack of mountains and abundance of ice. Not much was known about them other than folklore, and the dragon riders who did live there with their Cold-drakes were sworn to oaths of silence. Eleniel had only visited twice in her life, and it had certainly been an experience of a life time. She had seen the beauty of the Ice Elves, and the hardiness of the men who made the harsh cold their home.

The Ironfists had temperments like their name suggested. They were stubborn and true, unflinching like the iron from which they were named. They lived in the mountains by the inland sea. They mined in their beautiful caverns, harvesting stones of the purest lilac, which were made into delicate jewelry, very much different from their robust creators. She had always found this very interesting, how such calloused, large hands were capable of devising such exquisite, fragile conceptions.

The Blackfoots were the most different of the dwarf clans. They lived past the deep forests of Agasha Dag, in the south desert mountains. The only reason they survived in the extremely hot temperature was because of the natural spring that fed from deep within their mountains. Eleniel remembered they treasured water, unlike the other clans who avoided it at all costs. They were famous in the east for their vivid and richly colored fabrics with detailed patterns. She loved their fabrics. They reminded her of the vibrant scales of the dragons. These dwarves were given their name due to their coarse and messy black beards, Eleniel remembered with humor.

Last, but not least were the Stonefoots. They made their home in the Orocarni Mountains to the far east of the inland sea. Legend says all the four eastern dwarf clans originated. These mountains rose high above the land, nearly touching the sky, and stretched out as far as the length of four fully grown wyrms. This dwarf kingdom delved deep into the depths of earth, and was the birthplace of one of the Dragon Rider's most cherished jewels, red diamonds. They were given as gifts to men for their bravery, women for their coming of age, and necklaces given as courting gifts. They represented life, passion, and the fire of the dragons and the forges of the dwarves creator, Mahal.

Thorin Oakenshield's company was certainly entertaining to say the least. She quite liked the little one who always had his nose in a book. Knowledge was always, always a good thing to have. She also liked the white haired one, who had warm brown eyes. She didn't see old people often due to the fact being bound to a dragon made you virtually ageless, but he reminded her of what she assumed her great-grandfather would have looked like had he not been dragon bound.

She also found the one with the tattoos to be very interesting. The gentle looks he gave the white haired one when he thought no one was looking spoke much more than any words could portray. The one with the silly hat never seemed to stop smiling, and Eleniel envied his ability to do such a feat. It took a lot of strength from within to smile in the face of sadness.

The fat one continued to amaze her. He had jovial eyes and rosy cheeks, and kept up better than the young hobbit did! Eleniel would later admit, he was one of her favorites.

The two youngest, the heir's of Thorin, were the dwarves that caught her attention most though. Eleniel had never seen such handsome dwarves before! Most men dwarves had large noses and extreme facial hair, but these two had a fairer look to them. The dark-haired one instantly reminded her of the Stiffbeards, who stood much taller than any other of the dwarves. She quite liked his soulful brown eyes; they lit up when he smiled. The one with the sun-kissed hair was of coloring she had never seen on dwarves. He reminded her of the one time she had seen a lion, with a magnificent mane. His eyes were a sky blue, even from this distance she could see that.

Eleniel found that she was watching those two more than the others. There was something so intriguing about them, but she couldn't figure out what. She watched as they joked and laughed together, keeping up everyone's spirits. They were very good at that, keeping everything light and merry. It was quite amusing to watch them tease their comrades -and each other- so joyously. They were close, she could see. These dwarves were a fascinating group indeed.

They traveled for several more hours through the lush forest, with Eleniel still following in the shadows. She had never been so thankful for her special cloak when the rain began to fall down from the heavens without mercy. It wouldn't do her any good to let the rain dampen the inner fire all dragonrider's held. Rain could set a deep chill within, and that would not end well for her.

"Mr. Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?" one of the dwarves called out.

She strained to hear Gandalf' reply.

"It is raining, Master Nori. And it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, then find yourself another wizard."

Eleniel had to chuckle softly. Gandalf was quite the unusual wizard himself, who else would associate themselves with the quests of dwarves?

She heard him talking again, this time to Bilbo. He had asked if there were any other wizards.

She listened as Gandalf told him about Saruman the White, and Radagast the Brown, a rather odd little fellow who dwelt in the woods.

Interested, she listened for the name of her two blue wizard friends, but Gandalf skipped over them. How puzzling. Perhaps if she ever talked to Bilbo she would tell him of all the wonderful things Alatar and Pallando did for the people of the east, and all the lives they changed. They certainly deserved the praise.

The dwarves continued riding through the "deluge" for a long while until the pale blue sky finally opened and cleared above them. How she longed to ride aloft the wind in the open sky, and her hair tousled in the strong gale. This, the wood, the traveling, it was in her blood. It was were she belonged.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the wind caressing her face. Eleniel focused her mind, and sent it far, far away, over mountains and plains and forests, back to her heart.

_Vis hi hon zey*?_ She thought and felt those words.

There was nothing for a few moments, and then,

_Geh*... _

~Follow. Me. Home.~

_Vis hi hon zey*?= Can you hear me? (Dovahzul)_

_Geh*= Yes (Dovahzul)_

Tada~! Chapter three is done, and the quest has begun! Please leave reviews. I love hearing what you guys have to say!

~Anbu-chan


	5. The Prophecy

Hello, my lovelies! It took me forever, with all my school stuff, but this chapter is finally here! Thank you everyone for all your comments, favorites, and follows. It really means a lot! Please enjoy!

I do not own The Hobbit or Game of Thrones or any other resource in this story, only the OCs.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Eleniel had been traveling in silence behind the dwarves for the past three days, and only on the fourth night did she venture closer to hear what they were talking about. She listened quietly to the tale of Thorin's gruesome and devastating past, and Eleniel felt a deep sadness resonate in her chest. The King's past was filled with grief and loss. He lost his father, grandfather, and many of his people in the horrible battle for Khazad-Dûm.* Without Moria, Durin's Folk were lost without a home.

The white haired dwarf, Balin, had woven the tale and retold the day where he knew Thorin was the one he could follow and call King. Eleniel could easily see what he saw. She saw the pride and nobility within Thorin. This pride resided in all of Durin's Folk, of this she was sure. This quest was just the beginning to reclaiming everything that was once that in mind, the next day started of with a solemn acknowledgement that this quest was really happening. Erebor was a more than just for a kingdom for these dwarves.

She felt her eyes begin to mist over. The King Under the Mountain would have made a wonderful _Dovahzoriik, _she thought quietly.

'_There is no one more loyal in Middle-Earth than a dwarf,'_ was a common saying in her people. The _Dovahzoriik_ loved all races unlike the folks of the West.

The dwarves were the creation of Mahal, as they called him. He was the god of the creation of the earth, and his spouse, Yavanna, the _monah* _of all it's creations. It was not within Mahal's power to create life, and when he took notice of his error, he as creator of the Seven Father's of Dwarves, was prepared to destroy them. Legend says he raised his hammer in preparation, and his children shrank back in fear, and begged for his mercy. Eru Ilúvatar had mercy within him, and left the dwarves to sleep underground until the Firstborn, the Elves, awakened.

This was how the dwarves came to be, her mother had told her. She had always loved that story, because it told of where she came from. Eleniel's clan had very, very mixed blood. When the pact between the dragons and the peoples of Rhûn came to be, the dragons chose their riders and that was how they became a clan. It didn't matter who was elf, or dwarf, or man because they were all united by pride in their beautiful reptiles. All the brewing hatred was left behind as a new chapter of life was opened. People created families, and those who already had families of their own brought them. A city of many races came to live peacefully as guardians of the lost wild. Her people once stood thousands of men and dragons strong, but now they were scattered.

Eleniel knew she had dwarvish blood in her, albeit diluted. But she had Avari blood in her as well, as well as Loronian blood. But most importantly, the blood of dragons flowed through her, vital and fierce.

She looked from afar at the merry band of dwarves who were trampling through the forest, stomping and leaving clear tracks for anyone to follow. She shook her head slightly. Loyal these people were indeed, but stealthy… not so much.

She watched as Gandalf lead the group alongside Thorin. His gnarled staff glowed faintly, and Eleniel felt that it was alright to slip away quietly for a moment. Her intended destination was very close, maybe an hour away.

Eleniel turned her pony north, towards the human town of Bree. She had business to attend to while she was here in the west, and it was best to do it now.

She left the company without them ever even knowing, and ushered her steed into a gallop. The back trails of the forest gave way to the populated roads used by merchants, and the roads were worn down by the constant pounding of hooves and feet.

Soon, the wood gates of Bree came into view. Eleniel slowed her horse and jumped off. She took the reins in one hand, and knocked upon the gates. A pair of dull brown eyes narrowed through a peephole in the wood.

"What business does a woman like you have in Bree?" He said with suspicion laced in his voice. He eyed her black cowl, and the light catching gold trimming.

"Why does it matter to a gatekeeper like thee?" The lilting voice replied wittily.

The man scoffed in indignation, but opened the door for the woman. She ushered her pony forwards, and made her way to the stables. Paying the stable boy, she made her way to 'The Prancing Pony.'

Eleniel wrapped her headdress around her tightly, and covered her golden armor to avoid unwanted attention.

She trudged her way up to the inn with the fat pony sign. She took a deep breath of the clean air before opening the door and entering the smog of the large room.

Suspicious people hovered in corners like looming ghosts, and others unable to stand straight. She snorted, noting how everyone in this room looked suspicious no matter what they did.

Two hooded figures in the far left corner turned their bodies to her, and Eleniel could see white eyes from under one of the dark hoods. She pushed by all the drunk men who stood her in her way, not paying them any mind. She pulled a wooden chair over and sat down, facing the two men.

The one closest to her pulled his hood back and smiled at her, blue eyes twinkling.

"Hello, Eleniel."

She mirrored his smile. "Greetings, Estel."

He let a deep, throaty laugh climb from his chest. "People here know me better as Strider."

She nodded. "Ahh, I see." Then she turned her strong shoulders to the other hooded figure.

"My _Konaar…*"_ The cloudy, pupiless eyes peered at her, as if looking deep into her soul.

"Over hills and far I have come to call upon thee, Avantador. Darkness stirs and challenges my kingdom..."

Eleniel no longer felt ridiculous for talking this way, for she had done it many a time. Avantador spoke only in riddles, and prophecies. His mind often lived on a plane unlike that of Middle-Earth, but he was once a brave dragon-rider and remained a strong ally.

His unsettling eyes narrowed dangerously. "Who dares to bite their thumb at the sovereign reign of my ethereal goddess?"

Aragorn's eyes flickered back and forth between the two. He noticed their anxiousness at the mention of darkness creeping in, and he too had his own theories, but kept quiet.

"To destroy these enemies who dare to object our righteous command we must execute, and harbor the purity of the _Dovah."_

The strange man behind the hood leaned in, hanging off of every word.

"We stood higher than the Orocarni Mountains, the lore, the tales and songs of dragons echoing through the lands. They have forgotten our names! We must remind them we have not left them!"

The whiteness of his unseeing eyes burned with a passionate fire. Strands of black hair slipped past his hood, to frame his caramel colored face, as he placed his hands upon Eleniel.

"This disgrace to thy name of which thou canst e'er tolerate, my goddess! For so long as I stand, I protect thee, and draw my naked sword on all who defy."

Meanwhile, Aragorn watched the strange man talk. He had heard few passing things about the strange oracle, but much information on him and his history remained as elusive as the dragon riders themselves. All that Aragorn knew was that at certain points, Avantador's mind cleared of the mist, and a fracture of the brave man he once was shone through.

"I hear thy command, and Lórien speaks through me…" he whispered heatedly, before ripping his hands away violently. Aragorn stiffened at the strange man's jerky actions, but Eleniel shook her head, letting him know it was alright. He relaxed, but watched the oracle intently.

His eyelids fluttered shut, dark eyelashes kissing his cheeks. His unseeing eyes flickered behind closed lids, seeing images that none other could see. His hands came up to claw at his hair as if possessed, before he calmed down considerably.

Avantador's eyes opened once more, but no longer had their luminescent quality. They were a glowing lavender. His mouth opened to release a voice that resonated with a thousand souls.

_Gold and fire both shine and burn,_

_Times have changed and yet no one learns._

_He has taken much, _

_And yet will take more._

_The darkness still will touch,_

_but not that of the yore._

_The Dovah will fly, _

_upon a blood red sky._

_She will lead thee there_

_of this to you I swear._

_War and wage,_

_release thyself from thy cage._

_The Mountains will stand, _

_upon the battle torn land._

_The fire cries of many a lost soul._

_The age has come to take what He stole._

_It is the time,_

_For the Dovah to ignite, _

_to bring back the light,_

_To find freedom and take flight._

Eleniel sagged in her seat, going over the strange words, and Aragorn let a deep sigh escape his lips. The oracle blinked, and his eyes returned to the haunting, usual white.

"Avantador… what does that mean?" Eleniel cried softly, holding his broad shoulders back from slumping to the table. He stared at her soundly, and spoke to her softly.

"Fate cannot be changed like ink on paper unremoved…" he took her hand, before his voice changed once more. The shadow of who he once was returned with a sudden ferocity. His voice and eyes spoke of strong clarity.

"Fundor told me once so many years ago, our greatest _Dovahkiin* _had yet to come. How he knew, I know not. But I know he was right. When I look at you, dearest Eleniel," he placed his hand upon her high cheekbone. "I see light. Do not fret for you will lead us to greatness, and we will _follow you home."_

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Dovahkiin*= A mortal man or woman born with the soul of a dragon from Skyrim, also known as "Dovah Sos" or Dragonborn. It can be referred to as the ultimate dragon slayer. For the sake of the story it is a rare person, the messiah of the dragons.

****_Monah*= mother_****

******** _Khazad-Dûm*= Dwarvish name for the Mines of Moria_********

Oh Snap! I just did that! Chapter 5 is done! Hope you guys liked it! Does anyone like Avantador as much as I do?

Please leave reviews~!

P.S. Do I have any readers who are Naruto fans? I'm curious...

~Anbu-chan


	6. Shadows

Hi guys! Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and comments. It means a lot. :) Hope you guys enjoy this new chapter!

I do not own The Hobbit or Skyrim

Enjoy! See ya at the bottom!

~Follow. Me. Home.~

"_Bormah!*" A little voice cried. "Monah!*" _

_A little girl smiles, her childish grin missing a few teeth. Her black pigtails bounced in the air behind her, as she raced to where her parents stood. A proud man with broad shoulders and thick black hair had an arm wrapped around the waist of a brown haired woman. She was heavily pregnant, and leaning on her husband profoundly._

"_My little princess! Come here my love!" The imposing figure the man exuded disappeared at the sight of his only little girl. _

"_Bormah, look at what I made!" The little girl showed him a crudely made golden necklace. "I made it for him!" She pointed at her mother's round belly._

_Îdhron grinned at his beautiful daughter who had her mother's deep blue eyes. He knew that their color would change to match the dragon she tied herself to as was ritual for all dragon riders, but nothing would change the soul that shined through. Eyes were simply a door that allowed others to see one another._

_He took the delicate chain in his hands. It was a precious gift, and no dragon rider went anywhere without a piece of gold on them. It was the beloved metal of Aluë, the god that gave Yavanna the fire of the dragons, and the strength of dragon scales. It was a reminder of the Dovahzoriik's strength in the face of adversity and their prosperity. It reminded them to never fall to the greed that befell lesser men at the glint of gold. _

_The first gift of gold was the most treasured. Îdhron felt pride swell in his barrel chest, his daughter would come into her own quite nicely. _

"_This is beautiful, my child." He said softly, as he picked up the little girl in his arms. She grinned, and he carried her over to her mother who sat in the shade. _

"_What is this?" She asked, her red-tinted brown hair cascading down her shoulders. _

"_Diist yuvon*," Îdhron spoke._

_Amophina grinned, her dimples showing. "This is the best First Gold gift I have laid my eyes on yet."_

_The tanned child's face reflected the grin her mother wore. "When will Urúvion come?"_

_The older woman patted her child's head. "Soon. Why are you so impatient? You have five other brothers."_

"_They all bully me! I want someone I can bully!" She whined._

_Her father burst into laughter. "You little goblin!" Amophina cried, exasperated. _

_All of a sudden a horn sounded from a tower on the other side of the city. The girl gasped. _

"_They're letting the hatchlings fly today. You will not want to miss that, mon.*" Her father urged her in the direction of the sound._

_She smiled up at her parents before turning to run towards the massive tower. She ran as fast as her little feet could carry her, crying out, "I will be the greatest dragon rider ever!"_

_Îdhron looked at his baby girl as she ran away with a sudden sobriety. "I have no doubt you will, Eleniel. You will be our greatest Dovahkiin*."_

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Kili never considered himself paranoid. He usually left that job to Fili, or the other members of the company. He was the one to lift the others spirits, to laugh and tease them when they were tense or tired or too serious. It felt wrong to constantly look over his shoulder. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was there, in the shadows, watching them. More specifically, watching _him_. It had been following them for days now, occasionally leaving from what he could tell, but always coming back. It didn't feel sinister, but more like a guardian. He couldn't really explain how he knew, yet somehow, something told him he didn't really need to worry. Still, he was interested.

He moved his pony away from his brother, who was talking to Dwalin, and led it next to Gandalf in front of the company.

"Gandalf...have you-"

"Noticed we are being followed?"

Gandalf chuckled, and gave a find glance at the youngest Durin. The normally very carefree prince was wary and suspicious, not unlike his uncle. Kili looked surprised that Gandalf had guessed so readily what was on his mind.

"How did you...never mind. Gandalf, should we be worried? What if it's a threat or an enemy? We need to know. Should we attack or-"

Gandalf stilled the young dwarf's flow of words with a raised hand.

"Relax, my dear Kili. Our shadow is no threat to us, merely curious. Perhaps, in the future, as they become more comfortable, they will reveal themselves. Trust must be earned. I suggest that you put your worries at ease, Master Dwarf. Go laugh and enjoy your comrades. There is no trouble from our friend in shadows, I assure you."

Gandalf gave Kili a kind smile, which Kili took as his cue to leave. He slowed his pony to let some of the others pass until he was side by side with his brother again.

"What were you talking to Gandalf about, Kee?" Fili asked, a bemused and concerned look upon his face.

Kili glanced at his big brother. He was always there for him, protecting him, teaching him. Why should he worry him with something Gandalf wasn't even concerned about?

"Thought I saw someone following us. I wanted to check with Gandalf, that's all, _Khazash*_. He is not worried, so neither am I."

Kili smiled, but Fili gave him a doubtful look.

"I know you brother, remember that. We have all but shared the womb. You are not paranoid, I have felt it too. But you are right in consulting with our Grand Wizard Vizier."

Kili laughed, seeing a familiar glint in his brother's eye.

"We are in this together, Kili. And I will stand by you till the end, as will the rest of this company. "

Kili couldn't explain how much it meant to know that his brother actually believed him about their follower. He nodded, knowing Fili understood.

"And I, you, brother."

With a large grin upon his youthful face, Kili looked back once more into the shadows. Several minutes passed when he saw slight movement, and his hunter eyes focused on it immediately. His eyes narrowed, trying to see what so desperately wanted to keep out of sight. He saw it. Or at least, part of it.

Two green eyes sparkled like emeralds, staring deep into his soul. His jaw hung open. Before he could blink, the eyes were gone, like they had never been there.

"Hey, Kee, if you keep your mouth open like that, you'll start catching flies!"

Kili closed his jaw with an audible '_click' _and looked over at his brother. His brother had one eyebrow arched up, and Kili just shook his head, before following the blonde, trying to act like nothing had happened.

He tried to shake off those eyes, but couldn't. Kili had never seen eyes as green as those of the unnamed stranger. They had a foreign tilt, one that he had never come across before. It was as if it could see him, not just what he looked like, but _him. _He felt very vulnerable in that moment.

He wasn't sure what to think. Kili kept looking off into the woods and shadows, hoping to catch another glimpse, or more, but whatever it was remained hidden. He sighed, guiding his pony closer to his companions. Sooner or later, that mysterious being would show itself. Maybe when, as Gandalf said, it knew they could be trusted. Maybe...if only.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

_Khazash*= Brother_

_Dovahkiin*= A mortal man or woman born with the soul of a dragon from Skyrim, also known as "Dovah Sos" or Dragonborn. It can be referred to as the ultimate dragon slayer. For the sake of the story it is a rare person, the messiah of the dragons. _

_Bormah*= Father_

_Monah*= Mother_

_Mon*= daughter_

_Diist yuvon= First gold (literal translation) The gift of First Gold {Dovahzul}_

Tada~! How'd you guys like it? I had such a fun time writing little!Eleniel, and delving a little deeper into the dragon rider lore. Do you guys want more? I'd like to hear from you guys, even the ghosties!

I've been thinking about writing a Naruto story, or little drabbles focused around Sakura, but I'm not sure... I know some people don't like her, but if anyone has any ideas, feel free to PM me and we can brainstorm! :)

Until next time!

~Anbu-chan


	7. And Then There Were Dragons

Hi everyone! Hope everyone's having a lovely spring day!

I just wanted to say, here's a special shout out to everyone that's been so nice to leave a review: **Lelleg, Marina Oakenshield, LadyMedusaAshe, kepaff, Mademoiselle Diablerie, ArisuTamaZuki, Evangeline Pond, DarknessMakesMeSmile, Telekinesis Fae Flamingsword, cent76, kamiccolo's rose, Guest, and everyone who's left favorites, and follows! **

Now, be prepared to meet Eleniel's mysterious dragon! Onward with the story!

I don't own Skyrim, The Hobbit, or Fablehaven. Just the OCs who seem to be multiplying...

Enjoy!

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Eleniel cursed.

_Damnit! He saw you! Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

She cursed again. And again.

A deep, svelte chuckle interrupted a string of curses that could make a grown man blush.

**_Dii fahdon*, you worry too much…_**

The young woman rolled her eyes at the words of her beloved dragon, Rovaazjer.

_Says you! You're constantly checking on me!_

She could just imagine him shaking his massive head in amusement.

_**Your body is fragile despite your dragon spirit. Of course I worry.**_

Eleniel sighed softly, running the supple fabric that hid her face from view in her hands, tracing the gold patterns along the edge.

_It is hard for both of us to be so far apart. I feel my heart yearn for flying. _

The wise dragon, -_her_ dragon- she thought with pride, spoke softly.

**_Flying runs deep in your veins._**

_Yes. That comes as no surprise. I am the great-granddaughter of Hinnorben, The Great 'Fire Eyes'. _

She could feel Rovaazjer's emotions of recognition and respect flow through her as if they were her own.

**_Ahhh, geh*. I remember when I was a hatchling, my mother speaking of him. There is a certain amount of honor and companionship between our kin. An oath that has existed for many, many years. But, Hinnorben, they did not speak of him as man. They spoke of him as dragon._**

Eleniel felt her eyes glaze over in memory, as she rode upon her pony.

Her great-grandfather had been very old, but before he perished, he looked not a day older than his late 20's. Dragon riders aged slowly, for they were bound to their dragons. She loved him very much. He used to bounce her on his knees when she was tiny, and told her great stories of the dragons of old. Narolth, Lagiocrus, Mirimel… all of them so powerful and beautiful. She opened her mind to allow Rovaazjer share in her memories.

_He was a man to be admired. He led the Dovahzoriik* bravely into the Withered Heath to bring back what is rightfully ours._

Rovaazjer could feel the pain that these memories brought Eleniel. She often tried to avoid thinking, but this quest had given her a lot to think of, and a lot of time to do it.

People of the west grew up thinking that Melkor had created the dragons. But, what they didn't know was the truth of the origins of the dragons. They came from the far, far east.

Dragons were the most prized conception of Yavanna, the goddess of all creations good on this earth. She made them from the forest, the water, the sky, the mountain, and much more. Yavanna loved the noble reptiles so much that she took the fire from the forge of Aluë, and breathed life into them.

They took to the sky in a blaze of glory, and for the first time ever, the night was filled with the music of dragons. How Eleniel wished to have heard that sound. It was harder now that her people had become scattered, going where the darkness would not taint their highborn reptiles. Few remained with her in Wyrmroost. Her people no longer wore the vivid, jeweled colors of their dragon's scales, or held the insignia of the dragonriders upon their armor. They hid from the problems that plagued them, instead of facing the darkness head on like the dragonriders of old.

The darkness of Sauron had taken much from her people, she thought with profound sadness. The Firedrakes had always been temperamental and passionate creatures. When Sauron had witnessed the power a dragon held, he wanted it for his own.

He invaded Wyrmroost, a fortress of old where her people protected the eggs and raised their hatchlings to choose their rider. He took the precious firedrakes from them, placing his vile hands upon the pureness that was a dragon's egg, tainting them and corrupting the true nature of their hearts into something cold, foreign, and evil.

The people of the west only knew of Sauron's twisted, polluted dragons who burned homes and hoarded gold and stole maidens. They had never once looked a dragon in the eye and saw the intelligence and wisdom they held inside. They had never danced the night away on the wind. Just when you thought they had given up all their secrets, more were waiting to be revealed.

However, the dragons Sauron collected held allegiance to no one. These dragons needed no allies, so they formed none. Many of the dragons Sauron raised had left his side long before his demise, but his control on their minds remained steadfast. They searched for their own hoards of gold, destroying anything they came in contact with, much in the case of Dale, and Erebor.

Eleniel pulled her thoughts away at that point and tried to focus on the sound of the earth, and the thumping of the company's feet, mere leagues away. She got off the leather saddle and looked at the pony who no longer was burdened by her and her heavy traveling packs.

"I think it's time I set you free, my friend."

The little pony whipped her head back in a whiny and brushed her nose up against the petite woman's face.

With a laugh, she kissed the spotted nose. "I will miss you too."

With a soft pat to the pony's rump, it set off towards the west, where the grass was much greener by nature.

_"__Aal dovah yol kun hin ven."*_ She whispered to the wind.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Eleniel watched from the shadows of the darkened forest as the company merrily made their way to their doom. With a sigh, Eleniel silently scolded herself for letting her thoughts get so pessimistic. She let her enchanting eyes drift over to the little, bearded men. The dwarves were certainly more good-humored than her thoughts. She watched them squabble over possible campsites, the usefulness of different weapons, food supply, beard length, -the brunette heir seemed to be a bit of a joke in this topic, for he barely had any stubble- and what they would do with their share of Erebor's treasures when it was reclaimed. The conversation was light, hopeful, and determined.

Eventually, as dusk turned to dark, she heard Thorin call out for camp. Eleniel was able to sneak closer to the campsite on foot. The campsite Oakenshield had chosen seemed to be the site of an old, abandoned farm house. Looking at the ruins, a feeling of foreboding crept upon her, though she wasn't sure why. This was not a peaceful place.

She watched as Thorin completely ignored the sound advice of the wisest Istari in disbelief! The words of Gandalf were not to be taken lightly, but he swatted them away like pesky flies. She rolled her exotic green eyes. _He's too stubborn for his own good. _

"Where are you going?" Thorin's voice growled, clear and powerful even from her distance.

Eleniel started as she saw Gandalf storm away from the King and head for his horse. He did not look pleased with Thorin, but then again, he had tried to reason with a dwarf.

"To seek the company of the only person I can stand at this moment!"

"And who might that be?" Bilbo called after him.

"Myself, Mister Baggins! I've had enough of dwarves for one day."

As Gandalf started to ride off on the road ahead, Eleniel raced back to her travel pack. She was sure that the dwarves would be in no trouble, but she would rather be in the company of someone who knew she was there, and not lurking in the trees unable to do a thing.

She persistently stuck to the shadows, knowing better than to start a conversation with an angry wizard. Gandalf would talk to her when he felt to do so.

Her prediction proved to be correct when he turned in her direction.

"Eleniel, my dear, there is no need to hide in the shadows. I know you are there."

Eleniel emerged from her hiding spot like an apparition.

"I know. I did not wish to disturb your thoughts."

Gandalf's stormy grey eyes regarded her for a moment, before flicking to look off into the distance.

"The ruins left me in apprehension, but it would appear our King Under the Mountain does not share my feelings."

The dark-haired girl nodded.

"You did mention elves as well. That seems to be a sore spot for him, though I do not entirely understand."

Gandalf looked at her in amusement.

"You wouldn't, my dear. You come from people who honor their word, and protect others in need, unlike the elves of Mirkwood."

"Ahh, yes. I understand the anger at King Thranduil. I have meet him while delivering our best wine barrels, and he was not entirely… pleasant, to say the least. But I can not fathom why he hates elves who did him no wrong."

The old wizard sighed. "People here do not attempt to try to understand each other, and are left estranged from other races. This causes tension and anger, and no one seems to want to forget the past. Not everyone thinks rationally like you do."

Eleniel let her eyes drift back in the direction of the dwarves' camp. "Elrond is not like Thranduil. He will welcome the dwarves."

"Now, if only they could see that."

~Follow. Me. Home.~

The ground shook, as a massive green dragon landed with a thundering sound. She opened her maw to bare ivory teeth sharper than a swords tip.

The disgusting creatures with black skin screeched and brandished their crude weapons at the winged creature. Arrows were shot, aiming for the heart, but the scales were as hard as diamonds, and the weapons merely bounced off or snapped away.

She roared, and a distinctly human voice cried out from the dragon's saddle.

_"Mid Vur Shaan!*"_

The dragon responded, and let out a fierce battle cry, her wings unfurling and lifting her into the air. The dragon and rider spiralled up, and then let out a spew of poisonous, green gas upon the foul creatures of darkness.

The dragon's wings continued to beat, as the confused cries of the orcs sounded below. Slowly, the bodies dropped and the sounds stopped. The green smog cleared, and the dragon dropped to the ground once more.

All was quiet. Then, a terrifying roar from above split the silence, and the sky was stained red. Fire crackled and scorched the earth, destroying the remains of what was once a camp, sending towers of smoke rising up.

The dragon with gleaming green scales let out another roar into the night to her companion, a shared victory cry.

"_Los tol pah do niin?*" _A short figure cried out, holding onto the saddle of the proud dragon

Another dragon, a beautiful deep purple, landed swiftly, folding its wings skillfully. It's chest vaguely glowed from the fire it had produced a second earlier. Another figure, this one much taller, nodded swiftly.

_"Geh, mu kuz tir ulaan tah.*"_ They said softly, eyes scanning grey horizon.

"It worries all of us, Alassë."

She turned to him, light brown hair whipping in the wind. She turned to the man and spoke.

"Zinbar, it is not natural. Orcs should not be here." She turned her black eyes to the mass grave of orc corpses burning. "They never pass the Rhûn sea. What could they be doing out here?"

The dwarf shook his head, and looked at his dignified creation of Yavanna. "There are few reasons

why they would travel this far, and none of them are good reasons." He said, letting a hand brush through his massive black beard.

"Where is Eleniel? She will know what to do." The moriquendi elf asked him.

"Calanon had spoken with her last before she met up with the two blue wizards." Zinbar said, dipping his head in respect for the powerful Istari. "But Avantador is our eyes in the west. It is likely that they have spoken already."

Alassë then reached up, and placed a tender hand upon her dragon's scaly nose.

"Have we heard from Rovaazjer?" Zinbar asked his green dragon who towered over him. It turned its' head to look at her rider, amber eye blinking intelligently.

_Rovaazjer has connected only briefly. He spoke of the Grey Wizard and The Lonely Mountain._

"The Lonely Mountain…" Zinbar breathed. The home of his kin… and the home of Smaug the terrible.

Alassë gasped quietly. "She is going to take back Smaug." The black haired dwarf closed his brown eyes briefly before pressing his forehead against his dragon. "Mahal… what made her think she could do it alone?"

His dragon made a rumbling sound deep in her forest green chest. A puff of smoke billowed from her nostrils, and he laughed softly.

"Galzra is right. We should not doubt our _konaar*. _She has never led us wrong before, and her heart is fiercely loyal. She will survive it."

Alassë could only nod. Hirador, her beautiful, beautiful dragon with scales like dark irises blinked his lavender eyes and scraped the ground with his talons.

_Konaar is powerful, and she knows we do not agree with her actions, but we must stand behind her when she faces him. The Smaug who lays within the mountain is very different from the Smaug she once knew._

"Perhaps it is because she remembers the old Smaug that she can still see the good there."

Galzra snorted. _He is very far gone. The darkness that stains his soul is as black as the skin of an orc. Neither are salvageable. _

Zinbar smiled behind his bushy beard. "Maybe, but Eleniel has the heart of a dragon. If there is anyone who can save the last Firedrake, it will be her."

Then, the odd group stared into the far west, where their leader was fighting to bring her heart back home.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

_Aal dovah yol kun hin ven*= May dragon fire light your path {Dovahzul} _

_dii fahdon*= my friend {Dovahzul}_

_Los tol pah do niin?*= Is that all of them?_

_Geh, mu kuz tir ulaan tah.*= Yes, we took out the whole pack._

_Konaar*= Chief_

_Mid Vur Shaan*= Battle Fury (Dragon Shout) {Dovahzul}_

Tada! How was it? Hope everyone's having nice spring breaks! Please R&amp;R! Until next time, lovelies!  
~Anbu-chan


	8. Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme

Hello lovelies! Here's the next (awaited?) chapter of Follow Me Home! I want to thank: cent76, Bookwyrm513, and Nixie the bloody Pixie for leaving such wonderful reviews!

I do not own The Hobbit, or Skyrim, or any other outside reference used in this fanfiction. If I did, Kili, Fili and Thorin would've never died! :'(

Please enjoy!

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Kili had never really thought about how it felt like to be an animal being hunted, knowing it was going to be eaten. But, here he was, stuffed in a smelly old sack, waiting to be roasted and sprinkled with sage.

What did trolls know about seasoning anyway?

He shivered as he watched Dori's beard get dangerously close to the fire, and was very glad he wasn't hung to be roasted. Well, at least not yet.

The youngest Durin's big brown eyes started to water at the stink of the bag he was in. He knew dwarves were generally messy, noisy, rowdy, and smelly; he was one. But no one he knew compared to this awful stench.

With a shake of his head, he sent his shaggy, dark brown hair whipping in the air. The moment he was free of this sack, he was going to take a bath, and be clean. _Clean. That sounds wonderful. I will never skip a shower again. _One look in his brother's direction, and he could tell Fili was thinking the same exact thing.

All of a sudden, the hobbit jumped up to his feet clumsily, and abruptly stopped Kili's train of thoughts.

"Wait! You are making a horrible mistake!" With this cry, he had the attention of the whole camp. What was he doing? Hadn't he gotten them into enough trouble already?

"You can't reason with them! They're halfwits!" Gloin cried from somewhere to his right.

"Halfwits? What does that make us?" Kili held back a laugh. Trust Bofur to crack a joke while being roasted on a spit.

"Shut up, will ya?" The ugliest of the trolls said. "Wot are you talkin' about?"

Kili raised his eyebrows. Yes, Bilbo, what _are _you talking about?

"Y-you've got the seasoning all wrong. It's going to take a lot more than sage to cook these dwarves. I mean, uh, have you smelled them?"

Kili growled, and he heard others do the same as well. What the hell was Bilbo talking about? Seasoning? Was he giving murderous trolls COOKING LESSONS?! Kili felt anger course through his veins. What was he talking about? Half of their smell was due to these infernal bags! He wasted no time in voicing his anger.

"_HEY!"_

"SHUT UP!" The head honcho troll yelled again. "Let the, uh, flurgaburburhobbit talk."

Bilbo began to sweat."This isn't how you cook dwarf!"

Kili, nor the troll were very convinced. "Yeah, and wot do you know 'bout cookin' dwarf?"

"You see… there's a secret to cooking dwarf."

The company grumbled as a whole around him. If they made it out of this alive, they were all going to kill him. Well, Gandalf wouldn't allow that… they would seriously bruise, injure, maim, and throttle the pestering hobbit instead!

Now, the all three of the trolls looked interested.

"Wot's the secret?"

"Yeah, tell us!"

"Go on, out with it!"

Bilbo squeezed his little eyes shut. He was having trouble thinking in the face of these awful creatures who had no manners whatsoever.

He tried to think quickly. _Come on, Bilbo! You're a Took! Think of a way to save our skins… Oh. Yes! That's it! Skins!_

"The secret is to… uh, skin them first!"

_"WHAT?"_

"You've got to be joking!"

"WHY, I OUGHTA-"

"I won't forget this._ I won't forget it!_"

"Traitor!"

While the dwarves continued to clamour, the trolls were staring at the strange creature with big feet.

"Tom, get me filleting knife!"

The other troll, Tom, snorted. "What a load of rubbish! I've eaten plenty with their skins on! I say scarf 'em down, boots and all!"

Bert, the last troll, grinned. "Hmm, nothing wrong with a bit of raw dwarf!" He then proceeded to reach down and grab poor Bombur. Bilbo's eyes widened as he held the fat, ginger dwarf over his foul mouth. No, this would certainly not do!

"Nice and crunchy he is-"

"NOT THAT ONE!"

"Huh?" Bert turned his head, saving Bombur temporarily. "Why not?"

"That one's… infected. Yes! He's got worms… in his tubes?"

With a cry of utter disgust, the dimmest troll in the bunch dropped their lovable cook. He landed on the others hard, and Bilbo winced in sympathy for all of them.

Bilbo then turned and nodded his clever head. "In fact, all of them are. They're infested with parasites. I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

Oin scowled. "Did he just say we have parasites?"

Kili looked over his shoulder with a murderous glare. How dare he say they were infected?!

"We don't have parasites! _You_ have parasites!"

Bilbo glowered at the childish responses. He sent a pleading look at Thorin who had remained quiet during the whole ordeal. Thorin sent a swift kick into Kili's back, who grunted and quickly shut his mouth.

Then, it dawned on him what Bilbo was doing. _Ohhh, I see. I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Bilbo. I won't do it again. _

"I've got parasites as big as me arm!" Oin cried, and Kili followed.

"Mine are the biggest parasites, I've got _huge _parasites!"

"I'm riddled!" Little Ori cried, and Dori said, "Yes, we are riddled! Badly!"

Tom growled. "What would you 'ave us do then? Let 'em all go?"

Bilbo grinned sheepishly. "Heh. Well…"

"You think I don't know what you're up to?" He pointed a pudgy finger at Bilbo. "This little ferret's taking us for fools!"

_"Ferret?!"_

_"THE DAWN WILL TAKE YOU ALL!" _A familiar voice boomed loudly.

The hobbit wanted to cry in relief as the mighty warlock split a giant stone on half with his staff, sending glorious sunlight into the clearing. The trolls screamed as if burned, and began to turn to stone. Within a few seconds, they were completely immobilized, and the company was saved.

Ten minutes later, the dwarves were un-sacked, re-clothed, and ready for action once more.

Kili was standing stock still as his brother straightened the clasp that held his hair back. He was always so bad at these things, so he let his exasperated brother take care of it.

"There you go. I still don't know how you always mess it up, little brother." Fili teased.

Kili shrugged with a smile. "I'm not entirely sure…" He then wrapped his muscled arm around the blonde as they stood, both glad to have not been dinner.

Thorin walked by, and gruffly said, "Come on, nephews. We're going to find that troll hoard."

Fili wrinkled his impressive nose at the idea of smelling troll, _again. _He had officially had enough of trolls to last him a lifetime.

Kili groaned beside him. "Ugh, I don't think my nose can handle anymore. It might fall off!" Fili laughed robustly at his little brother's whining.

He groaned. "It's true…"

Fili nodded, but pulled his brother along anyway. They followed their uncle as he led the company to the cave where the trolls had to have been hiding.

As they reached the foot of the cave, Kili rooted himself to the ground, already getting a whiff of the foul odor. "I'm not going in there." Fili wholeheartedly agreed. The rest of the company walked into the troll hoard eagerly, leaving the brothers and Bilbo outside.

The two young princes stood close together, talking quietly. Bilbo sat, feeling very estranged from the dwarves. They were a hard group to fit in with, and it was not because they were bad people. The young hobbit could see how strong these relationships were, and he felt like an intruder on a very personal quest.

After several minutes, the rest of the company emerged from the hoard, carrying lots of gold and new weapons the trolls must have scavenged.

Thorin made his way over to his nephews, carrying a fine elf blade for himself, but also a surprise for Kili.

"Kili." he called.

Kili looked over from where he was standing with his brother and Bofur, who were admiring Fili's new, gem encrusted throwing knife. He gave Fili a nervous, confused glance before heading to where Thorin was waiting. The only times Thorin called him out was to scold him on being reckless or not thinking before he attacked or something else he did wrong. This time, Kili couldn't think of anything he did to earn his Uncle's disapproval. He looked behind him quickly and saw Fili watching him seriously. Kili turned and made his way to his uncle.

"Yes?"

Thorin stared hard at his nephew, this young prince who stood before him, before reaching behind him to draw out a intricately carved bow and a quiver full of arrows. Kili's eyes widened and Thorin let a small smile grow on his face.

"I found these in the trolls hoard. I thought you might be able to make use of them. " Thorin said kindly, knowing how happy this gift had made his youngest heir.

As a child, Kili had loved to shoot with a bow. He had been quite talented with it as well, almost always hitting the mark he aimed for. However, the bow was considered an elvish weapon, and Thorin would not have the line of Durin smudged by any elvish nature. He had convinced Kili to practice and train with swords like Fili. Kili had taken to it, but while Fili had made his weapon of choice the twin swords, Thorin noticed that Kili had still practiced his shooting skills. When he saw the bow and arrows in the cave, he decided that maybe having an archer among the company wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Kili was still staring at the bow, a goofy grin starting to form on his face. He couldn't believe it. His uncle was really giving him a bow? Kili pulled his eyes away from the gift and stared at Thorin. This man, the closest thing he had to a father, was giving him his weapon of choice, elvish though it may be.

"Uncle..."

"It is yours, Kili. I know I wasn't supportive in the past, but we need your skills. You never know when having an archer sound might be handy, and you've always shot true. And besides, your brother has his twin swords, Gloin has his axe, Ori has his slingshot. Every member of this company has their weapon of choice. It's only fitting that you do as well." Thorin explained, and held out the bow for Kili to take.

Kili had never been given such praise. He grinned as largely as he could, and gingerly took the bow and quiver from his uncle, whispering his thanks. He felt his Thorin clap him on the back before walking over to Balin. Kili stood there in shock before turning right around and racing over to his brother to tell him everything.

"Fili! Fili!" He cried in utter joy.

The blonde whipped around to face his dear brother.

"Yes?"

"Look!" He smiled widely, thrusting the bow and quiver full of arrows in his face. Fili let a smile mirror his brother's face as he admired the weapon. It was very… elvish, which was surprising for Thorin.

"It's very lovely, Kili! Now you don't have to sneak out in the middle of the night to try making one of your own!" Fili said with a cheerful laugh.

Kili felt his face heat up a little, but he just laughed with him. He sighed happily, letting his eyes wander around, until something caught his eye over his brother's shoulders.

Focusing, he felt his heart speed up. It was a shadowed figure, everything obscured except for two green eyes. It was their follower! His own eyes widened dramatically, and Fili, seeing his brother's expression, turned to look.

His quick, blue eyes caught onto what he was looking at before it disappeared into thin air. Fili took a deep breath, not even realising those haunting eyes made the breath catch in his throat.

"Mahal...Kili, what was that?"

Kili looked at his brother with a serious expression. Fili found that he didn't like the way it looked on him. It didn't suit him. It made him seem...older.

"That was our follower. The one I thought I saw before when I was talking to Gandalf-"

All of a sudden, there was a crashing in the forest that sent everyone on edge.

Thorin immediately drew his weapon. "Something's coming! Stand together!"

Fili and Kili shared a scared look. Maybe it was their follower finally preparing to attack them?

From the underbrush burst eight rabbits drawing a wooden sleigh upon which a rather...odd looking fellow stood. _Was that bird poop on the side of his head?_

"FIRE! THIEVES! MURDER!" The new stranger cried crazily.

Kili then relaxed only slightly, because this could not possibly be their shadower. He was neither quiet nor did he possess those alluring green eyes. But if he wasn't their follower, then who in Durin's name is he?!

It was Gandalf who answered the unspoken question.

"Radagast!" he said, relaxing his stance.

Of course! That crazy, wood dwelling wizard Gandalf had spoken about earlier. He wasn't a threat. Just a loon. Kili lowered his bow and the others lowered their respective weapons as Radagast tried to catch his breath.

"My dear Radagast," Gandalf soothed. "Whatever is the matter? Fire? Murder?"

"Something terrible has happened. In the Greenwood." Radagast huffed, eyes bugging, still slightly shaken from the sleighride.

"What?" Gandalf said, suddenly interested.

Radagast opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. He paused as if to collect his thoughts, and tried again, but still nothing. Kili thought it looked like it hurt him just to think. _I mean this man drives a rabbit sleigh, and has birds living in his hat. If that's not crazy, then I'm an elf. _

"I can't remember." Radagast moaned. "It was right there. On the tip of my tongue. Oh wait…"

Radagast made a face, and pursed his lips, like something was on his tongue.

"It's not a thought at all. It's just a little…"

Gandalf reached over and pulled a small, thin object from Radagast's mouth.

"Stick insect!"

_Oh, now that is disgusting! _ Kili grimaced.

While Gandalf and Radagast talked away from the group, about wizardy things, Kili surmised, the rest of them huddled together, unsure of the turn their journey had taken.

"What do you think he meant about something happening to the Greenwood?" Fili asked Balin.

Balin glanced around at the others, who were also talking darkly amongst themselves. With the sudden arrival of their strange new ally, a feeling of foreboding had begun to creep upon them.

"I am not sure, lad. Strange though he may be, however, I have never known a wizard to make a big deal out of nothing. If he is worried, then something serious and sinister has indeed begun in the world, and I am talking about so much more than-"

A loud howl ripped through the air, followed by a terrifying growl. They all whipped around to see a wolf, about as large as a horse, perched on the hill behind them. It had gleaming yellow eyes and fangs dripping with saliva. It's powerful legs charged forward.

"KILI! SHOOT IT!" Thorin yelled.

In a flash, Kili had his new bow strung and an arrow flying through the air, hitting it square between the eyes.

"Warg scouts."

Wargs. Fili gulped. This was not good. Where there were wargs, there were orcs, who were nasty, foul creatures that reveled in blood and destruction. He looked over at his brother and saw his own emotions reflected in his eyes.

Fear. Determination. Desperation.

"We have to get out of here!" Gloin yelled.

"We can't!" Ori cried out, running back from the way they had come from. "We have no ponies! They bolted!"

_Great._ Bilbo groaned inwardly. So this was how he was going to die: torn apart by Orc wolves. Just perfect. Why did he ever run out his front door? If they stayed where they were, they would be caught and killed. If they ran, they would be caught and killed. There was no where to turn. They were sitting ducks!

"I'll draw them off." The crazy brown wizard exclaimed.

Even Gandalf scoffed at this.

"Those are Gundabad Wargs. They will outrun you!"

Radagast smirked. "These are Rhosgobel Rabbits."

There was a moment of silence.

"I'd like to see them try."

He raced off and hopped upon his rabbit sled. But before he took off, he turned back to the company, with a knowing wink at Gandalf.

"Don't let me do all the work. For Valar's sakes- you have one of the dragon children amongst you. I'm sure they'd be only too glad to help!"

And with that, Radagast raced off. They could hear him yelling and taunting the foul beasts, laughing like the maniac he was.

Thorin turned in utter anger, and only slight confusion towards Gandalf.

"_Dragon child?" _Thorin snarled, whipping to face the tall, grey wizard.

"What is he talking about? There is no foul dragon among us. Only my company."

Gandalf shook his head softly.

Thorin's face looked thunderous. "You mean to tell me that we have been followed from the very first day and you never told me?!"

"I had my reasons, as did our ally. They are our friend." Gandalf spoke calmly.

"Well, then who is he?" Thorin sneered.

There was a pause. No one dared to speak. Then a distinctly _feminine_ figure materialized from the shadows of the wood.

"He would be me."

~Follow. Me. Home.~

OH SNAP! That just happened! What do you guys think? Please leave a review! :)

~Anbu-chan

P.S. No footnotes today... makes me sad...


	9. Valley of Imladris

Who's excited for the newest chapter of Follow Me Home? I know I am! Thank you to: cent76, DarknessMakesMeSmile, Wishfulwriter89, Guest, and Kohlii for leaving such wonderful reviews! Everyone, please enjoy!

AN: I had trouble posting this before, so thank you to Saphire Moon Maiden for pointing it out. Hopefully it's readable this time.

I don't own The Hobbit or Skyrim.

Enjoy! :)

~Follow. Me. Home.~

There was complete and utter silence as the dwarves tried to comprehend the very feminine voice they were hearing.

Kili stared at the woman, who had finally shown herself. He took in every aspect of her, not that there were many defining features with all the fabric over her face, but those eyes… They haunted him. They were like the green of the forest he loved, so evidently full of live even from his point of view so far away.

Fili was in utter shock. So his brother had been right after all, in a way. Judging by his gaping mouth Kili was just as entranced by this new mysterious figure as he was. Though there wasn't much to see, she was covered in an assortment of deep, dark fabrics with some sort of reflective gold lining. But what really caught his breath were her eyes. A brilliant shade of green that reminded him of ancient emeralds. Though he had not seen many woman other than a few dwarrowdams from the Blue Mountains and a few human maidens in passing villages, he knew there was something different about this one.

Ori shrank back slightly into his older brothers, who were eager to shield him away from the imposing figure. Dori was sending her his darkest glare, and Nori was eyeing the gold he could see on her personnel. She was tall, but nowhere near as tall as a full grown elf or human maiden, from what Ori had heard. Yet, the woman's small frame was relaxed and she seemed to pose no threat, at least not yet. What was that the Brown Wizard mentioned about her? A dragon daughter? He began to scribble on his papers.

Bofur was taken aback. A woman? In such dangerous territory? One look around told him everyone else felt the same way. He held Bifur back from grabbing his axe, and noticed Bombur looking at them quite warily.

Gloin, Oin, and Dwalin had no qualms about brandishing their weapons. Balin stood by Thorin, a contemplative look on his wizened face. Thorin looked more thunderous than usual.

"Ahh, it's about time, my dear. I had feared you would've never shown your face." Gandalf smiled, his eyes twinkling.

"She still hasn't." Thorin interrupted coldly. "Who are you?"

"This," Gandalf started, "is none other than-"

Another bone-chilling howl cut through the air.

"Now is not the time to be introducing ourselves, Mithrandir! We must make haste," the strange woman pressed. "NOW!"

The dwarves all jumped into action at the urgency of her words. With one quick fluid motion, the woman was leading them out into the dry grass of the Wilds. In the distance, they could see the rabbit sled taunting an alarmingly large pack of orcs.

The woman was actually quite petite in stature, Fili noticed as he ran beside his brother. He was indeed a good three inches and more shorter than her, but her delicate appearance made her seem all the smaller. She was incredibly light on her feet as well, he noted. Her cloak billowed in the wind like a dark wraith in the green and brown landscape.

Gandalf was running alongside her, shouting at her in a language he had never heard. She shouted back and pointed somewhere, before changing direction slightly. The band of dwarves followed. They made it to a large outcrop of rocks when they heard a low growl. In a rush, they pressed themselves up against the rock, hearts pounding nervously. An orc riding a dark grey warg leapt atop their rock. All it had to do was look down and they were gonners.

Thorin gave a sideways glance at his youngest nephew. If there was any a time for an archer, it was then. Kili took the hint, and slowly pulled an arrow from his quiver. Time to show off a little, he thought, glancing at the young woman, whose green eyes appraised him curiously.

He knocked the arrow into his bow and ran out a little ways from the rock, just in the line of sight of the orc. Before it had time to screech, Kili had let go and shot the warg right in between the eyes. It fell to the ground with a loud thump, dead. The orc was crushed beneath it, but still let out a nasty wail. Gloin, Dori, and Bifur jumped up instantly, silencing it by hacking away with their axes, but the damage was still done.

The orc pack knew their hiding spot.

"RUN!" Thorin commanded the group, and run they did. The orcs pounced upon them with fervor, but the company successfully dodged all their attacks.

"Kili! Shoot them!" Thorin cried again. Kili wasted no time in knocking more arrows and killing as many of the vile creatures as possible.

Meanwhile, little Ori faced down the wargs bravely with his slingshot but it did him little good. The darkly dressed ally came rushing to his rescue, holding out her hand, blue flames erupting from her palm. Ori stood stock-still, shocked by the impressive display of power as the orc thrashed.

"Gandalf has abandoned us!" One of the dwarves shouted angrily.

"Quickly, you fools!" Said wizard exclaimed, pointing at a slope of rocks that turned out to be a cave.

The company rushed in safely, Thorin having to drag Kili in behind him. A loud horn sounded before the dying screeches of orcs could be heard once again. One of the beings of darkness tumbled into the cave, an arrow lodged in it's neck. The surrounding dwarves, Bombur, Bofur, and Nori looked at it in disgust. Thorin growled as he pulled out the arrow.

"Elves…"

Dwalin headed toward the back of the cave, which formed into a tunnel.

"There's a passage that leads away. Do we follow it?"

"Follow it, of course!" Bofur yelled, exasperated.

The dwarves, Gandalf, Bilbo, and their stranger trecked the long, hidden passage for a while. There were times when the openings got so narrow, it became a group effort to pull Bombur through.

At long last, they came to an open view. They were looking upon a city of white stone and red trees. Bilbo had never seen a place of such beauty, and even the dwarves were in stunned silence for a moment.

"The city of Imladris." Gandalf explained happily. "Though the common folk know it by another name."

Bilbo couldn't take his eyes off the stunning landscape, the water spray creating a hazy glow around the whole city. He never thought he would be standing here. Perhaps in his dreams from long ago.

"Rivendell."

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Rivendell, the Last Homely House West of the Mountains, was home to the beautiful race of elves. And beautiful it is, Bilbo thought quietly to himself. He feared that if he said his thoughts out loud, he might get impaled by the many weapons of the currently very unhappy dwarves.

He let his greenish-hazel eyes drift to the newcomer who held herself tall and proud. He was slightly nervous of her, mainly because the black fabric covering her nearly head to toe made for a very intimidating figure.

He must have been staring for too long, for she turned her head slightly to pin him where he stood with her impressive green eyes. He was about to look away, but the crinkles at the corner of her eyes made him stop. The once harsh orbs had a slight curve, and there was a gentle look present.

Was she smiling at him?

She raised a gloved hand and wiggled her fingers at him playfully before turning back to follow Gandalf who had begun moving again.

Bilbo blinked, his cheeks reddening at being caught, before smiling slightly. Perhaps this stranger wasn't so scary as she seemed.

The hobbit bumbled on after the group, having to be pulled along by Bofur when something his eye made him stop in his tracks. They crossed a thin bridge that was adorned with elven statutes, and Bilbo gulped, repressing the urge to look down.

They found themselves in a little stone platform, with a beautiful view of the city. It seems like everywhere you go, you'll have a beautiful view. I'm not complaining.

"Mithrandir!"

A voice stopped him from marveling at the sights around him. He looked up to see a handsome, dark-haired elf descending the steps towards them. The dwarves closed rank subtly at the appearance of the new person.

"Ahh, Lindir!"

Lindir replied something in Elvish, which sounded quite beautiful, in Bilbo's opinion. The company grumbled at the sound.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond," Gandalf told him.

The elf, Lindir shook his head with an apologetic look.

"My Lord Elrond is not here."

"Not here? Where is he?" Gandalf's wizened face scrunched in confusion.

The sound of a horn echoed as his answer.

Bilbo nearly had a heart attack when he saw the incredibly large horses thundering directly at them. Apparently, so did Thorin. He screamed something in their secret language before saying, "Close ranks!" He was then pushed into the circle, the dwarves making a barricade between him and the elves. He had never felt so small in his life as the great beasts circled their group, flags and fabrics trailing behind them swiftly.

"Gandalf!" The most regal looking of the elves said.

"Elrond! Mellon-nin*!"

The two shared a smile, and Gandalf continued in Elvish, "Where have you been?"

"We've been hunting a pack of orcs that came up from the south." He said as he climbed off his tall horse gracefully.

"We slew a number near the Hidden Past." He smiled again, and hugged the Istari briefly.

"Strange for Orcs," Elrond held up a sword that belonged to the awful creatures, "to come so close to our borders. Something, or someone, has drawn them near."

Gandalf nodded. "Ahh, that may have been us."

Thorin then stepped forwards, Dwalin and Balin shadowing his steps. Elrond looked at the majestic dwarf not unkindly, and bowed his head. "Welcome, Thorin son of Thrain."

Thorin's face remained blank. "I don't believe we've met."

Elrond's eyes scanned his face, as if confirming his thoughts. "You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the Mountain."

The short dwarf looked him in the eyes. "Indeed," he said, before sneering, "he made no mention of you." Dwalin smirked, and Bilbo watched intently, surprised by the rudeness Thorin showed towards Elrond in his own home.

Elrond remained calm, but he spoke directly at the dwarf in Elvish. There was a small pause.

"Is he offering us insult?" Gloin growled in a thick tone. The other dwarves began muttering crossly.

Gandalf shook his head in exasperation. "No, Master Gloin. He is offering you food." Elrond looked amused.

The dwarves huddled together, Bilbo stuck in the middle of their meeting. After a second or two of talking they separated once more.

"Ah, well. In that case, lead on."

The Elven King began to lead them before he stopped. His eyes flickered over the silent, dark figure who he had overlooked. His clever gaze caught the glint of golden armour, and the black clasp that held a foreign insignia. He had his suspicions, until he looked into her eyes. They were green, so very green, with slightly slitted pupils. With that his hunch was proved, and his eyes widened noticeably.

Elrond glanced at Gandalf, who nodded.

"Drem yol lok. Zu'u valokein*," he said softly, as he twisted his hand into a foreign sign, which the newcomer mirrored.

"Paaz shul grind, zok dremsil Elrond*." Her eyes crinkled in indication of a smile. "Not many know or speak of Dovahzul* anymore."

The elf lord grinned softly, before taking both hands, and pressing kisses to both. " I've had the pleasure of learning much from your people when we used to trade." He remembered Hinnorben well, and this woman before him had an incredibly similar appearance to him. " l It is the greatest honor to have the likes of you within our realm, Dovahkiin*."

Lindir gasped at the powerful word and its status, before bowing his head in reverence. The woman's eyes widened briefly at the mention of the rare dragon rider who was said to be a myth. Me, the Dovahkiin? She masked her surprise well.

The woman replied in a silky tone. "It is a pleasure to finally visit the last Elven home east of the Sea. I do not believe I've traveled this far west before."

The dark-haired, regal elf nodded in understanding, before turning to the company of dwarves who were staring at the two with variations of thinly veiled suspicious expressions. Lindir and Gandalf had watched the interaction with curiosity.

Elrond ushered for a nearby elf maiden to escort the dragon rider to room where she could freshen up. He personally led the dwarves in another direction, where they could set down their things, and hopefully, he thought with slight distaste, clean themselves as well. The 13 dwarves smelled faintly of troll.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

_Drem yol lok* = (literal translation) Peace fire sky/ Greetings! Hello! (Formal) { Dovahzul}_

_Zu'u valokein* = (I) Welcome (you)! {Dovahzul}_

_Paaz shul grind* = (literal translation) Fair sun meet/ It is nice to meet you {Dovahzu}_

_Zok dremsil* = most benevolent/kindest {Dovahzul}_

_Dovahzul*= Dragon Langauge_

_Dovahkiin*= A mortal man or woman born with the soul of a dragon from Skyrim, also known as "Dovah Sos" or Dragonborn. It can be referred to as the ultimate dragon slayer. For the sake of the story it is a rare person, the messiah of the dragons._

Hi everyone! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and that you leave reviews. Soon, I'll be posting a poll so that you can vote for who you want to to see our lovely heroine with in the end. Until then, there will be both Fili and Kili loving! :)

Ciao!

~Anbu-chan


	10. White Shores Are Calling

Hi everyone! Sorry this update took so long; I've been in Chicago, practicing cello and a whole lot of other strange hobbies, but I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Thank you to everyone for the great reviews, and the favorites/follows! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit, Skyrim, or Lord of the Rings.

P.S. I have a poll for who you want Eleniel to end up with, so check out my profile and put your vote in. Thank you! :)

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Fili tugged at the side of his braided moustache in deep thought. His tousled mane of golden hair was still wet from the rowdy bath he had taken with his close friends and kin.

He raked a hand through his hand, and fingered one of the beads in his braid. It symbolized his promise to Erebor, and how he'd be king one day. It was a very heavy burden, despite how he knew he would love The Lonely Mountain.

This braid, this promise he made, calmed him down. It reminded him of himself when he felt lost. It's cool iron kept him from drifting away, both in body and mind.

So, knowing this, he let his mind wander to the heavily clothed stranger. He couldn't figure out who she was, or where she came from.

He had seen the strange clothes, and what looked like gold on her personnel. He had also seen gold trim on her face cover, so he could assume the color held some personal meaning.

The foreign sign that the Elf Lord twisted his hand into was not one he had seen from any race he knew on middle earth, and the conversation they shared was in a language he had never heard. It had sent shivers down his spine. One things for sure, those words held a deep power.

He sighed. Fili knew that thinking about it wasn't going to get him any answers, just more questions. Still he was very curious.

Before he could think anymore, Thorin called out, "Fili! It's time. Dinner is ready." Fili nodded, and got up from his cross legged expression, and left the beautiful marble fountain behind.

Soon, he was sitting down at the table shoulder to shoulder with Bofur, Kili on the toy makers other side. He scanned the small group, but didn't see the mysterious woman. The dwarves were just settling down when another figure entered the room.

Fili felt the breath escape him in an instant. A _whoosh _of air sounded from the right, and he could tell he wasn't the only one left wonderstruck.

Gone were the dark colors and concealing garb, only to be replaced with flowing, richly colored skirts.

Hair the color of ravens flowed down her back, reaching just below the curve of her hips. From behind thick, wavy hair, her oddly tipped ears pointed out. The dress she wore was a deep red like blood. Upon it sat golden trimming along the edges of the collar and edge of the skirt. A sky blue shawl sat across her delicate shoulders.

She had a heart shaped face, and high cheekbones. Her big, tear-drop shaped malachite eyes were set under arched, thick eyebrows, and the bridge of her nose was straight. She had dark pink lips, and beautiful olive skin. She was the darkest skinned person in the whole dining area, making her appear far more exotic.

Women in Middle-Earth were preferred to have pale complexions. If a woman had tan skin, it often meant that she was of poor status, and she spent time in the sun, often times farming. And when a woman dressed in bright colors, it often meant she worked in the night for many men. The average woman, whether it be dwarrowdam, elf maiden, or human maiden, was supposed to dress in light, earthy colors, and act demure and quiet.

But this maiden, who made her way to the table where Gandalf, Thorin, and Elrond sat, was everything but demure and quiet. She had said not a word, but the tilt of her chin, her steady and sure feet, and the drawn back shoulders screamed of confidence, and not the fake kind. Her essence demanded respect, it seemed. She was indeed beautiful in a very exotic, unconventional way.

The elf who led her pulled out a chair between Gandalf and Elrond, facing Thorin. She sat down, and thanked him kindly.

Meanwhile, Kili was in a similar predicament as the rest of the dwarves. Kili couldn't tear his eyes away from her, now that he could finally see her. He had been staring at the elf maiden who had been playing the harp, but had been officially cowed when he mistook an elf man for a woman. He had been laughed at thoroughly, and he was sure that his embarrassing blunder would not be forgotten soon.

He would not be scolded for staring at a female, at least not this time, because everyone else was too. But how could you not? This woman, who had before hidden her face, was intriguing, and beautiful beyond belief.

"By my beard," He heard Fili mutter nearby. Kili nodded. Somewhere down the table, their scribe Ori, was drawing furiously into his book. "C'mon boys. It's impolite to stare." Gloin chided the dwarves, sending specific looks at the younger dwarves who had seen few women, and didn't have the tact that came with age and experience. They nodded, but continued to sneak peeks of the odd woman who had apparently been following the company. Unlike the younger and kinder dwarves, the older, more experienced members of the company knew better than to be wooed by a pretty face. There was something different about this woman. They were smart enough to know she was not what she seemed.

Across the balcony, their leader was thinking the same thing. Thorin was staring angrily amongst all the members at the table. At the current moment, he wasn't fond of any of them, and he didn't bother to hide it.

"Tell me," Elrond said, wiping his mouth on a napkin, before facing the olive-skinned woman. "What is your name? I don't believe I asked earlier, and while you bear resemblance to someone I once knew, I would not like to make assumptions."

The woman smiled, and pushed back a pesky stray hair over her shoulder.

"I am Eleniel Alunfraad."

Elrond nodded. "Ah, yes. The Alunfraads. Îdhron is still chief, is he not?" The elf asked, his mind picturing the strong, proud man as he remembered him.

"No. His dragon Jevirth died a few years back, and he has not been the same since. It is a lot like losing a piece of your soul, when your bonded dies. I am in his place instead."

Thorin glared at this woman. It seemed the word _dragon, _he thought with disgust, was tied to her title.

"The chief of what exactly?" The proud dwarf king scoffed.

She turned her soul-seeing green eyes to him, and said, "The Dragon Riders of the Far East." She spoke with such pride, like a real chieftain would speak of their people.

Thorin nearly spluttered, but held himself straight. _Dragon Riders?! _

She turned her head back to the Elf Lord, eyes curious.

"How do you know of the _Dovahkiin?"_

Elrond laughed softly. "I have only seen one _Dovahkiin_ before you, and that was Hinnorben. He was a very brave man to face such darkness. I will never forget when he returned from battle victorious."

Eleniel nodded in understanding. Meeting a _Dovahkiin_ was not something you took lightly, nor forget. Her great-grandfather was one of the bravest men she had ever met, and as long as she could remember, she had wanted to be like him. With a soft exhale, she thought, _perhaps I am more like him than I thought…._

It was then that she fully took in the peace and beauty that was Rivendell. It was quaint, and the soft music put troubles facing Smaug and worries of the upcoming travels far away. She sighed, relaxing for the first time in months.

Then, her fragile peace was shattered.

Loud, rambunctious laughter harshly broke the calm like a ripple in a stagnant pond. Everyone turned to face the other two tables of dwarves in shocked silence.

"Change the tune why don't ya?" The dwarf with the star-shaped hair asked. He looked over his shoulder at the maiden playing the harp. "I feel like I'm in a funeral!"

Oin held his ear trumpet up. "Did somebody die?" He asked, looking around.

"Alright lads, there's only one thing for it!"

The dwarf with the funny looking hat then stepped on the beautifully carved wood tables with his bulky shoes, scratching and smearing mud.

Raising a hand, he sang, "_Theeeere's aaannn iiinn,_" catching the attention of everyone. He started to stomp his feet, creating an infectious beat.

None of the elves seemed very thrilled at the turn of events.

_There's an inn, there's a merry old inn_

_beneath an old grey hill,_

_And there they brew a beer so brown_

_That the Man in the Moon himself came down_

_One night to drink his fill._

Elrond looked at Gandalf, who quickly looked away, puffing his pipe. A piece of food whizzed between the pair, who looked to see where it landed. Thorin was trying hard not to laugh at his company who were quickly making a mess of the beautiful courtyard. Eleniel watched with a grin on her face, as the little men had fun and made merry. They were just like Zinbar and his kin.

_The ostler has a tipsy cat_

_that plays a five-stringed fiddle;_

_And up and down he runs his bow,_

_Now squeaking high, now purring low,_

_Now sawing in the middle._

_So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,_

_a jig that would wake the dead:_

_He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,_

_While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:_

_'It's after three!' he said._

Bofur held his hands up as food was thrown in his direction. He bowed low, before going back to his spot, where he noticed the large grins his kin had on their faces.

Eleniel tried to muffle her smile as she saw the look on poor Lindir's face as food was thrown right next to his face. He was standing to the right of the statue which was now smothered by a healthy coating of cream on it.

"Does anyone else want to sing?" An elf who had been playing the lute asked sarcastically.

Gandalf's grey eyes twinkled mischievously. "Actually," he said, looking over at Eleniel. "My dear Eleniel, would you please sing for us?"

Eleniel narrowed her green eyes at the cheeky wizard. He knew she didn't want to sing anything, but now Elrond was giving her an expectant look, and it wasn't like she could turn down the offer now.

She stood, gathering her skirts in her dainty hands. The eyes of everyone in the area were now trained on her foreign face, but she ignored it easily.

Thorin watched the woman named Eleniel stand with a harsh look. He had to admit she was certainly beautiful, but the word _dragon_ was constantly mentioned and he didn't like that one bit. But, his suspicions didn't change the fact he was curious about what she was going to do.

Kili had his eyes glued to her slender form. He couldn't contain the excitement he felt as he was about to finally hear her speak. He looked over at Fili who was staring just as intently.

The girl with hair like ravens opened her mouth to let out a rich tone with a soft accent from far away lands.

_Lay down,_

_Your sweet and weary head._

_Night is falling,_

_You've come to journey's end._

_Sleep now,_

_And dream of the ones who came before._

_They are calling,_

_From across the distant shore._

_Why do you weep?_

_What are these tears upon your face?_

_Soon you will see,_

_All of your fears will pass away,_

_Safe in my arms,_

_You're only sleeping._

The tone of the song was soft and hopeful, like a dove taking flight. Then, the song began to crescendo like waves crashing on distant shores.

_What can you see,_

_On the horizon?_

_Why do the white gulls call?_

_Across the sea,_

_A pale moon rises._

_The ships have come to carry you home._

_And all will turn,_

_To silver glass._

_A light on the water;_

_All souls pass._

The dwarves of Erebor were in awe at the beautiful voice coming from the equally beautiful woman. The wind whispered through the glade of Imladris and flirted with her hair and lifted the vibrant skirt.

Fili watched on in awe as she wove a story with her gentle voice. He had never seen the shore, but somehow felt familiar with it already. Her voice reminded him of what the ocean would be like, quiet and calm yet swelling to rich tones like tides coming in under silent moons and warm suns.

_Hope fades,_

_Into the world of night,_

_Through shadows falling,_

_Out of memory and time._

_Don't say: "We have come now to the end,"_

_White shores are calling,_

_You and I will meet again._

Kili felt the power of that promise, and the familiarity of the way they passed her lips. It was apparent to him she had made that promise many a time, yet to who he knew not.

_And you'll be here in my arms,_

_Just sleeping._

_What can you see,_

_On the horizon?_

_Why do the white gulls call?_

_Across the sea,_

_A pale moon rises._

_The ships have come to carry you home._

Bilbo sighed and closed his eyes. He felt very at peace when he heard her song. She sang of distant lands as though they were her long lost home. He felt that his little hobbit hole in Bag-End was quite like those shores that seemed so very far away. But the promise that the journey will end and will turn out well comforted Bilbo greatly. He studied the curves and edges of her face with a detailed eye, realizing she was certainly not nearly as terrifying as he remembered her dressed in black. As a matter of fact, she looked surprisingly gentle, with soft eyes and relaxed shoulders.

_And all will turn,_

_To silver glass._

_A light on the water;_

_Grey ships pass,_

_Into the West. _

Thorin looked at his company who were staring transfixed at the strange new comer. Awe was apparent in their faces, and Thorin tried his best to not let his own surprise show. The lyrics were beautiful, and he could feel the hope it gave him flutter in his barrel chest.

Elrond and Gandalf shared smiles, before clapping.

"Beautiful song, my dear." Gandalf spoke. "I have heard that song only once before in the Rhûn."

Eleniel smiled at him. "Yes, it is the song of the Moriquendi elves, as you would call them. We call them the Avari."

Elrond nodded. "They were the only elves who did not sail to the Undying Lands. Their reasons why, I still do not know."

Eleniels sighed. "That is a tale that deserves more time than what we have now."

Elrond nodded at the young woman, before turning his porcelain face to the quickly rising moon.

"It is time to read the moon runes." He said, turning to The King Under the Mountain.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Elenial sat shrouded in darkness by the fire. Thorin's company had made a small bonfire in the courtyard, smoking pipeweed and roasting what they called "real food." Mainly, meat.

It was quiet, and Elenial enjoyed the time to just sit and think and observe her new companions. Thorin had been with Gandalf a long while, with Elrond, the halfling, and a white haired dwarf, Balin. She wondered what the moon runes were that Elrond wanted to see, but she knew it was not her place to ask. Not yet, anyway.

"Bombur!" The dwarf sitting next to her called. He was talking to a rather obese dwarf sitting on a rickety table with a pound of food on his lap. The dwarf beside her, the one with the peculiar hat who sung at dinner, tossed him a sausage link he had finished cooking. Bombur snatched it midair, and in that second, there was a large cracking sound and the table collapsed, sending Bombur down with it.

The whole company roared with laughter. Eleniel, however, looked on in confusion.

"Relax, Dragon-Lady." The dwarf chuckled next to her. Bofur, that was his name!

"Why would you do that? Why is that funny?" She asked him quietly. She could not understand laughing at the expense of another soul's feelings.

Bofur leaned back a bit and sighed with a smile.

"He's my brother, miss, and I was only foolin'. See, he's alright. I got the laugh, but Bombur, he got the sausage."

It was true. Bombur had fully picked himself up, with a little help from another dwarf with an axe in his head, and he was now chomping happily on the acquired snack.

"Who is that that helps him? He has not spoken a word all night."

Eleniel turned back and saw a hint of sadness in Bofur's eyes, something she could tell did not belong there. The optimistic dwarf was not suited for sorrow.

"Ah, that'd be Bifur, my cousin. And no, I suppose he hasn't spoken. Not unusual, see. That axe he has lodged in his head damaged him. Not completely but enough. He only speaks in Khuzdul, our ancient language. He's easy enough to understand and a great guy, once you get past the grunting."

Eleniel smiled, thoroughly interested. She knew a handful of words in Khuzdul thanks to the small bit of dwarvish blood in her. Perhaps she would attempt a conversation sometime… She looked towards the next two dwarves. Bofur followed her gaze, and continued talking.

"Oin and Gloin. Oin is an expert healer, miss, the best you could want. He is mostly deaf in his right ear, though, so speak loud when talking to him. Gloin, his brother, is as fierce and loyal as they come, as you've probably seen. Not too keen on elves, I'm afraid, and his son, Gimli, will follow suit, I'll stake my hat on it."

Eleniel looked at the red bearded dwarf in surprise. He had a son? He had a son, and yet here he was risking his life for what? Gold? Gold was precious to her people, but not so precious that it was worth lives. As if he could tell what she was thinking, Bofur continued by saying,

"We all have families, miss, families we left behind. But we have kin among us here as well, and together we fight for our home. Dwalin," he nodded to a muscled, tough looking tattooed dwarf, " and Balin, who is upstairs now, were there with Thorin, on the day our people lost it all. They remember. Dwalin, though frightening at first glance, is really a big teddy bear. Or, at least I think he is. And Balin, well, Balin is like a wise old grandfather to us. He is usually the reason to Thorin's impulsiveness. "

Eleniel thought about that. There was so much to learn, so much history, so much depth in this one little band of 13 dwarves.

"What about them? she inquired, eager to know more.

"Dori, Nori, Ori."

Bofur chuckled, his fur hat wobbling as he did. Eleniel stared at him. He stopped to explain.

"Ori is an odd little fellow. More of a knitter than a fighter. An artist, really. He spends more time in the library writing down what happens in life rather than living it. Did you see his weapon? A slingshot. He's the second youngest in our company, the baby in his family."

Eleniel glanced at the younger dwarf. He was adorable, as dwarves go, and sweet. She smiled. So they weren't all tough and vicious as they wanted you to think.

"Now, Nori, he's our thief. That is until Mr. Baggins came along. Mahal only knows why he prefers his hair in a star, but hey, it works! Dori is a little soft, in my opinion. A little too dependent on others like Gandalf to help them in a jam. Jam..."

Bofur trailed off.

"Jam...do we have any jam? Shame, really, it's quite good, especially at this time of year, very good on toast and with cheese and bits of meat and-"

"Bofur!"

Eleniel prodded, laughing exasperatingly.

"Enough about food! Come one, continue! If I've counted correctly, there are three dwarves left you've yet to mention. And the halfling, don't forget. "

Bofur shook himself a little, as if waking from a dream.

"Sorry, Dragon-Lady. Jam and all... Got carried away. Now, let's see...ah yes. Fili and Kili, Thorin's nephews."

Eleniel turned her gaze onto the two young princes. They were the ones she really wanted to hear about. They were sitting on a low bench, smoking rings and talking softly. The blonde one had his arm around his brother, who was leaning up against him. It altogether looked sweet and familiar and comforting.

"Fili, the blond, is the eldest. He is to be Thorin's heir. He is one of the best fighters we have, skilled with twin swords, and is fiercely protective of Kili, though both can hold their own. I'll be damned if they are ever separated, though. Tight as brothers get, if you ask me. Kili is the youngest, even in our company. He hasn't got his beard yet, the wee lad! Haha! But he is determined and fierce, like his uncle. He is well equipped with a sword as well as a bow. And he is very protective of Fili, too. It always gives me comfort, those two. They are happy and laughing and young, and it brings light to our dark quest."

They sat in silence for a while, Bofur humming a familiar tune, and Eleniel lost in thought.

"The hobbit," Bofur spoke of suddenly, " is strange. He saved us from quite a pickle already, and I'm sure he will be fine along the road. But to tell you the truth, he is as deep a mystery to me as you are, my Lady."

Eleniel blushed prettily, thankful for the darkness.

"There is still one more."

Bofur closed his eyes and leaned further back.

"Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, last in the line of Durin and King Under The Mountain." He murmured. He started to hum again and sung quietly under his breath,

_"Far over the Misty Mountains cold,_

_To dungeons deep and caverns old._

_We must away 'ere break of day,_

_To find our long forgotten gold..."_

And then he was asleep. Eleniel sighed and lay beside the fire. She had heard a lot tonight, and it gave her a better understanding of these dwarves and their bonds. But there was still one story she had to hear in person, one way or another. The last story, and possibly the most important story: the one of Thorin Oakenshield.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

**Aaaanndd, that's a wrap people! Hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :) Please, please leave a nice comment or any thing that you especially liked about this chapter. I would like to get to 100 reviews by the time this story is done, but I will your guys' help with that, so that would be very much appreciated. Again, there is a poll being put up so leave a vote when you have time. :) Ciao~!**

**~Anbu-chan**


	11. The Far East Holds Deep Secrets

It's very early in the morning_,_ Anbu-chan should be sleeping but she's posting another chapter which took way too long to create. This is kind of a filler, focuses mostly on the glorious mess that is a mix between the world of The Elder Scrolls (which I actually don't know that much of) and Middle Earth. Ori is just the scapegoat who would ask all the important questions, so here's a little bonding moment. It's become a really, really long chapter, and the next part will have more FiliXElenielXKili goodness, I promise, because all these amazing reviews and favorites/follows?! You guys are just fantastic.

Whelp. Here's the next installment of Follow Me Home. Standard disclaimer applied. Don't forget to check out the poll when you can, if you already haven't!

~Follow. Me. Home.~

The valley of Imladris was white and pure, like the souls of the elves. Fili let his big, blue eyes scan the dips and swells of the hills around him. Despite how his uncle hated the elves, their home was certainly beautiful. The valley seemed to echo his thoughts as the sun's rays kissed the glade.

He turned to see where the others were. Their bedrolls were still lying there messily, but almost everyone was up and about except for the hobbit, who was still asleep. Speaking of still asleep, Kili's snores were beginning to match the ferocity of a warg's growl.

Fili stretched, and let out a large yawn. He saw the woman shift slightly at his over-the-top movement.

"Good morning," He called out softly to her.

"Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that perhaps it is a morning to be good on?" She smiled cheekily at him.

From somewhere to the left, a sleeping bag snorted. "You've been spending too much time with Gandalf," came the muffled response of the hobbit.

"Maybe," She laughed, and butterflies seemed to be caught in Fili's stomach.

"If you don't mind me asking," the blonde said quietly. "What is your name, my lady? I don't believe I caught it."

"I am Eleniel Alunfraad. And you are?"

"Fili, son of Dis, nephew to Thorin, heir to Erebor."

She smiled at him. Her eyes twinkled in the morning light, and the sun bounced off her hair, highlighting the red in her ravenette locks.

A snore broke the peace of the valley.

"And brother to this dwarfling, Kili."

"I'm not a dwarfling…" Kili muttered in his sleep, before thrashing in his bedroll, and shoving his face into his pillow. "I'm 77…."

Fili rolled his eyes. "Sure." He focused his attention back on the young woman.

"You are 77?" She asked in slight surprise. "You both look to be about 25 in human years. I would've expected the both of you to be in your 90's or slightly above 100."

"Ahh," Fili said. "Well. I am 82. Kili's the baby of our group." That resulted in another annoyed growl from his brother's bedroll. Kili rolled over and gave a sharp kick into his brother's side, which Fili quickly returned. Eleniel laughed at their antics. Up close, the rowdy dwarves were actually quite sweet and even more fascinating to watch.

"So, Miss Alunfraad," Fili said, standing up, rubbing his side, glaring at his still sleeping kin. "What about you? It seems to me that you are older than you let on." He gave her a sideways glance that did something odd to her stomach.

She smiled coyly at the blond dwarf. "Didn't your mother ever tell you never to ask a lady her age?"

Fili's cheeks turned rosy as he spluttered, trying to make up for his blunder.

Eleniel brought a hand up to her face to try and muffle the giggles that slipped out of her mouth, but they were still quite audible.

Fili blushed even more. "It's quite alright, Mr. Fili. You're only curious." She looked at him with gentle eyes. "You may not believe me if I told you I was 700?"

Fili's jaw dropped and Kili shot from his bedroll with wild hair and crazy eyes.

"700?!" They both exclaimed in utter shock.

"When I thought you were older, I didn't mean that old..." Fili whispered.

Kili shook his head. "I expected you to be no older than 50..." He scratched his hair in amazement. _Maybe I'm more of a dwarfling than I thought…._

She threw her head back and laughed. "My father is Avari elf. My mother has blood of Altmer and Lororian elf and StoneFoot dwarf, so I am much older than you think. Not to mention I am bonded to Rovazjeer and I age with him."

Kili eyed her. "Bonded?"

She nodded her head. "Bonded. It is a ritual between a dragon rider and their dragon."

Kili was watching her in amazement, but Fili was a little more suspicious. "Are we talking of the same thing? Fire breathing, winged reptiles?"

Kili nodded as well. It was hard for him to imagine someone so beautiful riding upon the ugly creatures his kin depicted.

"Well, you know only of the dragons of the West. In the Rhûn, as you call it, dragons were born and raised to be beautiful creatures. They were raised from the elements by Yavanna and their fire given to them by Mahal. They existed alone until the firstborn elves came to be. When the elves, men, and remaining dwarf clans among other races stayed, the dragons felt threatened. A war broke out between my people and the dragons of old. My ancestors were the ones to build a pact between the dragons and the races of the East, thus making the dragon riders, protectors of the East. We have held this sacred pact for thousands of years, until the eggs were stolen and corrupted to become dragons like Smaug."

Fili was shocked. He had never thought where the dragons may have come from, until Eleniel explained their past.

"That's incredible..." Whispered Kili. He found that Yavanna creating such a creature and using the fire of Mahal was much more appealing to him than a crazy, evil man who made such creatures from his twisted mindscape.

Eleniel grinned at him. She was finding these dwarvish brothers very enjoyable to be with.

"You seem to have a lot of surprises up your sleeve, Miss Alunfraad. Perhaps on this journey, we will have the pleasure of learning more of them," Fili, ever the smooth talker, interjected not a moment later. Kiki couldn't help the little spike of resentment he felt as his brother attempted to charm the pretty female. A little voice in the back of his head screamed in unfairness. _Fili always gets the girl! _

Completely unaware of the dwarves thoughts, Eleniel glanced around at the others who were wandering around in the open courtyard. Bombur was hunting around in last nights feast. Bofur was whistling on his flute by the fountain, his hat down over his eyes. Bifur and Balin were talking in low voices in what was presumably Khuzdul.

Dwalin was sharpening this war axe to a fine, deadly point, and Thorin was brooding nearby. Nori was no where to be seen, probably stealing fine silver and Dori was knitting. Gloin was suspiciously looking around him, as if the elves would jump out from the shadows and eat him alive, while Oin was sifting through his herbs.

Eleniel glanced around and noticed Ori was sitting not too far away from where they were. He had his head down, looking up now and again, and he was moving a charcoal stick slowly across a piece of parchment. Curious, she made her way over to the young dwarf.

"What's this?" Eleniel smiled as she sat down next to him. The mousy little dwarf looked up with wide eyes, and his face briefly turned scarlet as he quickly hid the paper, realizing he had been watched.

"Oh, um, it's nothing, really," he nearly whispered. She noticed him not making eye contact, and his cautious attitude.

"You're always writing in this journal. It can't be nothing with the dedication you put into it," she smiled at him.

Ori blushed deeper at this compliment. Shyly, he passed her what he was working on. Eleniel looked down in amazement. It was a drawing of Bilbo, and with great likeness. Unlike the flustered, anxious, annoyed hobbit Eleniel had started to know, this was the face of on who was calm and thoughtful, with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Ori…." she sighed. "this is wonderful. Does Bilbo know?"

He twisted his hands, big brown eyes looking at the hobbit from across the glen, who appeared to still be sleeping.

"No…" he looked at her. "I'm not sure if I want him to…"

Eleniel placed a hand on his small shoulder. "You don't have to tell him. You do as you please. When the time comes, you'll know."

Ori looked up at her with eyes filled with wonder.

"Thank you," he breathed. She nodded, and turned to look at the sky, but Ori got the feeling that she really didn't understand all he was thanking her for. The other dwarves in the company understood that he was the scribe, but that didn't mean they really understood that he wasn't violent or anything like that. But in came a beautiful, foreign woman with hair like ravens, from a world far away who accepted him without even truly knowing him. This is why he wrote and drew. He would always want to remember all of this journey, no matter what happened along the way.

"Perhaps you would enjoy to know more of my people so that you may have more knowledge to return home with?" Eleniel asked softly, green eyes taking in his hopeful nod.

"What would you like to know?"

Ori let out a breath. That was a very difficult and vast question that could keep them there all day.

"What did that brown wizard mean when he said, 'dragon daughter'?" He asked.

Eleniel smiled widely. "He is referring to the bond of a dragon rider and their dragon. Dragon riders are my people. We have the blood of dragons within us, and we are the children of these wondrous animals," she sighed with reverence.

The next question rapidly followed her explanation.

"Do you have a dragon?" He asked, still somewhat mystified she actually rode a _dragon, _of all things.

She nodded. "His name is Rovaazjer."

"Please describe him to me," Ori requested, writing utensil and journal in hand. Eleniel was very happy to comply.

"He is a magnificent creature, standing at the size of a four-story building, with long legs and lean frame. He has a long neck and diamond shaped head, with ivory horns adorning the length of his head, spine and tail. He is twelve horse length's, from head to tail, and his wingspan twice the length of his body. His scales are the color of pure gold glistening in the light, and his eyes are wide dishes, the same color as mine."

The little dwarf was scribbling furiously on the paper, yet still managed to weasel in another question.

"Is that a coincidence that you share the same eye color?"

The foreign elf nodded her head in approval of the young dwarf's cleverness. "No, it is not. When a dragon and a rider bond, the rider's eyes become the color of the dragon's. No one is sure why it happens, as dragons have a magicka that is unexplainable, sometimes even to dragons themselves. It is so that when you think a dragon has finally given up all it's secrets, another shall appear before you."

Ori had managed to lightly sketch a figure of a dragon, and record what she said in a footnote at the bottom of the page. She was fairly impressed at his skill, and made move to point out what was right and wrong about the dragon he was sketching. Soon, with the help of the dragon rider, they had a fairly accurate picture of her flying companion.

Ori stared at the picture, then stared some more for extra measure. This animal was larger than life. Simply on the page, it was magnificent. He could barely think how lavish and grandiose this creature was in the flesh.

"Wow," was all he could manage. His female companion chuckled. His brown eyes turned to her once more, begging for knowledge. He was certainly eager to learn more.

"Did you know that there are red diamonds in the far east?" He shook his head 'no,' interested.

"Well, they indeed do exist. The people of the far east consider them very precious. The _dovazoriik_ cherish these jewels, as they are as red as the blood that Yavanna gave us so we could live, and as red as the fires of Mahal who brought life to the dragons. They are usually given to war heroes and made into courting gifts. They represented life, passion, and the fire of the dragons and the forges of the dwarves creator, Mahal.

"We cherish gold as well. It is a sacred gift, not to be taken lightly or coveted greedily. All _dovazoriik _carry gold on their person, and as children receive gold as their first gift. It is rare and very good fortune for a dragon to be born with scales the color of gold. I was incredibly lucky for Rovaazjer to have chosen me as his rider."

Ori diligently wrote on. "May you tell me other things of your people? Do you have different races? Do you have any old or interesting traditions? Clothes, food, legends, songs, anything I can learn from you I would like to know."

She laughed. "So eager to learn, you are," she smiled. "There is much to learn from my people, so I will tell you things, but not all at once. You need space in that journal for this entire journey."

Ori blushed, looking a bit sheepish and chastised.

She placed a hand upon her chin. "As a matter of fact, I think the only way to truly learn everything there is to know about the dragonriders is by living with them. We have so much history and culture, that explaining it would take more than what we have time for. But, I shall tell you of something of my home."

She grabbed a stick, and began to draw in the dirt a map of the lands she came from. Mirkwood, Escaragoth, and The Lonely Mountain came into view with each stroke of the branch. He could see the Iron Foothills drawn above, and farther north, the frozen wastelands of the Forodwaith. Next to it was a land called High Rock, and Skyrim beyond.

Soon a large body of water was drawn, labeled 'The Sea of Rhûn', and to its left was a ridge of mountains named the Orocarni, and a forest to the right. It was given the name Agasha Dag. An island was centered to the far southeast of the sea, called the Summerset Isles, and across a strait was another forest, Valenwood, and above it two lands called Hammerfell, and Cyrodiil. South was Elsweyr and the Black Marsh. Finally, she drew the Harad desert, Morrowind, and a long ridge of mountains called, 'The Spine.'

She went on to explain to the little scholar all the various races.

The Avari elves were very different from all the races of elves. They were dark-haired and had dark skin ranging from a soft olive to caramel to deep chocolate. They were as tall as all the other elves, but their bloodline was less "pure", as different marriages to different races were not frowned upon as in this area of the world. The Avari lived in the plains and the deserts and even the mountains and jungles of the far off Rhûn. They were wild and free in almost every sense.

Eleniel then went on about the Dunmer people. In one of the languages of the Rhûn, it meant "dark elves." The Avari were also known as the Moriquendi, which also meant dark elves, but this was a name bestowed upon the elves of Imladris and the other western homes. None of the elves of Middle-Earth knew of the other races of elves, with the exception being the largest population, the Avari. The Dunmer were by far the farthest related of the elves, having bred with the now long gone Orcs of Nova Orsinium. They often had ashy gray skin and red, enchanting eyes. Eleniel knew of Dunmer who had green, and even light blue skin. They had once lived with the firedrakes at the Red Mountain before it erupted, but they now inhabited the Morrowind. An ill-fated bunch they were, haunted by the black blood of an orc that ran through their veins.

The Bosmer people were actually a lot like the elves of Mirkwood. They lived in the deep woods in the far south-east of Rhûn named Valenwood. They were incredibly skilled archers, and lived harmoniously with nature. The were kind and gentle people, and very non-descript.

The Ice Elves were wonderful folk. They were incredibly pale, and resistant to snow and frost, fitting best in the cold Forodwaith and the High Rock and Skyrim.

The Altmer elves were the haughtiest of the elf races that Eleniel knew. They were also the tallest, averaging above seven feet in some cases. They had light golden skin, amber-green eyes, and hair to match their complexion. They were considered, "pure," and had strict traditions of marriage and reproduction so that their bloodline may remain clear. Because of this and long lifespan, they also began to dwindle as the years pass by.

Ori was incredibly surprised. He knew of the three homes of the elves, but never knew that there were at least three more kinds of elves in the Far East.

"You had Orcs as well?" He asked. Eleniel nodded.

"We did, but they died out when I was a little girl. Nova Orsinium is now occupied by the last of the _Sosnaak."_

"Sosnaak?" Ori questioned, the beautiful dragon language falling from his mouth in a glitchy attempt to replicate the sound.

"The Blood Suckers. The humans call them Vampires. They are undead creatures who feed off of the blood of living souls to survive. They are often associated with the Dunmer elves who live close by, and is a big reason why they are feared."

Ori was appalled. _Blood Suckers? _He could understand why people would fear the Dunmer. They lived so close to dangerous creatures, which implied they were dangerous enough to feel unthreatened. "These undead creatures, where they once men?"

She nodded. "That, or elves. Dwarves cannot be found past Cyrodiil, or much farther past the Rhun Sea. The four remaining dwarf clans live closer than you think. Perhaps I should tell you more of your kin?"

Ori nodded eagerly, the braids in his hair and beard bouncing with the action. Eleniel went on to describe his kin, weaving tales of wonder and legend, making him long for relatives he never knew he had. As he listened to her tales, he could almost hear the echo of the anvils in the Orocarni mountains, and see the masonry of the Stiffbeards, and feel the deep golden sand and water within the mountains of the empty deserts, and all of a sudden, he felt as if he had finally found home.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Anbu-chan has slaved over this chapter, but shall remain victorious. Veni, vidi, vici. I will now hide like a hermit once more. Your reviews/favorites/follows are much appreciated.

Sending readers lots of love.

Ciao!

Anbu-chan


	12. Challenges and Proposals

Hi! Wow, two updates so close? It's a miracle. This is probably my shortest chapter, but who cares? It's gonna lead to some major awesomeness. Standard disclaimer applied, hope you guys enjoy.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Eleniel stood and walked towards the opposite side of the open yard. It was soothing here in Imladris. Nothing from the outside world could bother you here, it seemed. She slowly made her way out of the little cove that the dwarves made their brief home, and leaving the dwarf scholar with much to think about. Her hands trailed and touched the aged, white stones of the majestic buildings.

She admired the statues of serene soldiers as she passed under them, and felt very humble. These people were her kin, despite their differences. The elves of Imladris, the Greenwood of old and the Woodland Realm were all unique but had their similarities. The Avari elves were the estranged part of the race, hardly keeping contact with the kingdom of Thranduil, much less the kingdoms of Elrond or Galadriel. The Avari elves were incredibly reclusive, but even more so were the Altmer, Bosmer, and Dunmer people.

The elves of Imladris were kind and polite to their guests, that much she could tell. They tended to be fair skinned and had dark hair. Like all elves they had a delicate point to their ears and they all looked to be carved out of marble itself. The people were quiet and gentle, unlike the elves of Greenwood.

The elves of Mirkwood were much more ferocious and took much less kindly to visitors. Granted, the fortress of Dol Guldur was near and the spawns of the giant spider Ungoliant were residing in the once beautiful woods, but regardless, they had always been less friendly than the other races.

The elves who lived in the Woodland Realm were almost unknown to her. She knew of Galadriel and immediate family as all highborn elves were related, albeit distantly. They were fair-skinned and had light eyes, and had gentle demeanors. They lived in trees and were vegetarians. Eleniel knew little else of them.

But despite the differences, something felt very familiar. The elvish blood in her sang at being reunited with old companions from lives past, and she felt the tug of Valinor calling to her. She denied it once more. No, not yet. She still had much left to do.

These thoughts and comparisons of her homeland and Middle-Earth clouded her head. The brought an ache to her heart, one she assumed the dwarves of the company must've felt as well. She missed her vast home greatly, and the strange and wonderful creatures that inhabited the various geographies and cities. Even though the stars remained the same, they did not have the same scintillation as they did at home. Above all, she missed the part of her soul she had left behind in her quest to Middle-Earth, Rovaazjer.

_I miss you, dii fahdon*..._ She stretched her soul far into the distance, waiting for the feather light touch that would convey a thousand thoughts and feelings.

_And I, you..._

A deep voice resonated within her being, and she couldn't repress her smile at the warmth her dragon's voice brought her.

She opened her mind and allowed her memories of the last few days spill out, letting her golden dragon view everything she had lived through, thoughts, pictures and emotions. This was how they communicated. Sometimes they didn't bother to use words, just simply projected emotions and feelings towards one another. As she revealed all that had happened at dinner the other night, she felt the presences of others appear nearby.

Heaving a slightly annoyed sigh at the lack of peace, and therefore lack of concentration to communicate with Rovaazjer, she turned to the approaching people with an expectant look.

Two sleek bodies of the male variety came into view as they rounded the corner off the little glen Eleniel was residing in. She was met with dark hair, and high cheekbones, and two pairs of twinkling, crystal blue eyes.

Eleniel raised an eyebrow. "May I help you, good sirs?"

One of the elves stepped forwards and bowed.

"We have simply come to see our esteemed guest and long lost kin." He smiled charmingly.

Eleniel would have none of it. "And?"

"What my brother means to ask is if you would grace us with our presence?" The other brother, who had only minor differences in appearance, asked politely.

"We could show you around the Valley if you would like as well," the cheekier of the two added. The foreign woman saw no harm in joining the two, so she nodded.

"Very well."

The two brothers seemed pleased. "My name is Elladan," The slightly taller elf introduced himself, and the other followed quickly. "And I am Elrohir."

Eleniel smiled. It was easy to see that the two were twins, but they did have slight differences setting them apart. For one, Elladan had a slightly more square shaped face, and his cheekbones were more pronounced, while Elrohir had a softer look, with a round face and sharper eyebrows.

"I am Eleniel Alunfraad."

Elladan laughed. "All our names start with an 'E'."

The two other elves laughed, and followed the shorter brother out of the small glade, and deeper into the city.

The two handsome elves steered her around the entire center of the city. They showed her the gardens, the large kitchen, the place where they weaved baskets and clothes, the blacksmith's working area, and the even all the little bridges and pathways that flowed with the river. She was wonderstruck everywhere she turned.

"And this," Elladan motioned with his hand, "is the training grounds."

Elrohir followed up his brother's statement with a detailed explanation. "This is where all the elves practice archery and swordsmanship. It's a favorite among our warriors."

Eleniel could tell by the worn walkway they had just been standing down. The targets were scratched, and the dirt was disturbed in multiple areas. Plus, more elves than she had seen the other night where congregated around the open arena of sorts.

"It's very nice." She agreed. "This looks a bit like the one we have back home."

Elladan opened his mouth as if to say something, only to be interrupted by another voice.

"Hey! Elf! Get away from our companion!"

The three elves turned to face the voice. It was Fili and Kili, looking like they just had their feathers ruffled.

"What do you want dwarf?" Elrohir sneered.

Kili bristled at the tone of voice the elf used with his brother, and went to speak up, only to be held back by his kin.

Fili growled quietly under his breath. "We would like to be taking Miss Eleniel with us and be on our merry way, if that's ok."

The male elves laughed. "And what makes you think she wants to be with you two?"

Kili shrugged. "Just ask her yourself."

They all turned to the female in question. "Look, this is your little lover's spat, so don't involve me in this. If I have to chose, it would be neither with the way you children are fighting."

The males were cowed, but Kili was still curious. "What are you doing out here then?"

Eleniel looked as if she was going to say something when Elrohir, the more mischievous of the two brothers interjected into the reply.

"If you must know," He sighed dramatically, "We are getting to know our lovely companion. She is royalty from far away, and Father wanted us to get to know more about Eleniel before suggesting a proposal of sorts."

Fili's keen blue eyes flickered between the two brothers. "What kind of proposal?"

The twins shared identical looks of the cat who caught the canary. "Why, the joining of two great kingdoms. A proposal of courting."

Eleniel's green eyes widened, and the serene look was replaced by shock. _Wait, what?_ Elladan winked at her, causing a slight blush to rise to her cheeks. By now, their loud altercation was drawing in spectators.

Fili stood stiller than a statue, and Kili couldn't stop his jaw from dropping.

"What makes you think she'll agree to such a ridiculous proposal of courting?" Kili snapped. _Yes, _the only female thought. _I'd like to know that answer too._

Elrohir, the one who dropped the bomb, smirked. "Think about it logically, dwarf. The elves of Imladris are an incredibly strong army when awakened, and to join the dragon riders with the elves of the Last Homely House East of the Sea would make for an undefeatable force."

Kili could see the logic, but the sinking feeling in his chest would not let him accept such reasoning.

"Miss Eleniel," Fili spoke loudly. "Did you know of such an arrangement when you chose to walk with these two?"

"No, I did not." She said sharply, not liking that plans involving her were going on behind her back. "Elrond asked this of you?"

Elladan shrugged. "Well, he asked us to marry, but never implied who."

Elrohir grinned. "We refused for so long, but you came around and caught our eyes. We decided we simply must get to know you."

Kili rolled his deep brown eyes, and Fili tugged at a moustache on his face.

"Well, you can't decide for Miss Eleniel."

The twins snorted. "And neither can you."

The two sets of brother's stared each other down fiercely. Eleniel narrowed her eyes. No one decided for her. She could feel the electricity in the air. They didn't even know about the customs of her people.

"The customs of my people are very complex. If I did accept anyone, _which I shall not, _it would be insulting to do so without learning our rituals."

That caught the attention of the four men. "What rituals?" Elrohir inquired.

"For a man to even consider asking a female, he must make a necklace of gold and red diamonds. Not only this, but he must challenge any other suitors and fight them off so that he may be the best choice. That is one of only a few steps."

Elrohir nodded, and turned so that only his brother could see his wink. "Then, we must challenge the suitors who fight for Eleniel's heart!"

That was certainly not what the exotic female had intended. Eleniel exasperatedly sighed. These men were strange. The twins were making assumptions that she liked them, and while she enjoyed their company, she was more inclined to golden blond hair, and deep brown eyes.

Fili was shocked. This was outrageous! In dwarven culture, the dwarrowdam must accept her suitor before he goes and claims her as his. It was tough competition, because women were far and few between, and therefore they were very precious. This was an insult in it's highest, and one look at Kili told him he felt the same way.

"We, as proud and honorable dwarves, shall not let this insult go by. We shall accept your challenge, but demand there be stakes."

Elladan and Elrohir shared surprised looks, not expecting the two dwarves to accept the joke. This prank had gotten a little out of hand, but it was shaping up to be pretty interesting. Plus, there was no way they could back down with the crowd watching them. It would be disgraceful.

"What do you have in mind?" The taller of the two elves asked.

Fili responded. "If we win, you shall no longer ask for the Miss's hand in marriage."

"And you shall leave her be," added Kili.

The twins nodded. "Fine. But if we win, _which we will, _you must not interfere with our courting, _and _you have to admit elves are better than dwarves."

Kili wanted to laugh at that request. It was childish, and he knew that he and his brother would win no matter what. They had a lady's honor at stake.

"Fine," Fili nodded.

The elves around watched on keenly, interested to see how a match would go down between the races who had such bitter hatred. Most of them were keen on seeing the dwarves lose.

Eleniel watched as the four males shook on it, and despite her amusement, briefly wondered, _Since when did they make decisions about my love life without consulting me?_

~Follow. Me. Home.~

Lol, where did that idea come from? Not sure, but that's ok. I have some important announcements as well, so I'll get to that now. One, please check out my poll in case you didn't leave a vote. By the scene with the eagles, it'll probably close, but it's not set in stone yet. Two, I would like to know what you guys want the challenges to be, archery, sword fighting? I'm leaving that up to you guys. And last, I'm considering making a challenge so you guys can participate, but I'm not too sure about it yet. Tell me what you guys think on all this stuff.

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review! :)

Ciao, Anbu-chan


	13. Rules and Regulations

HELLO LOVELIES. IT'S TOO EARLY IN THE MORNING FOR ANBU-CHAN TO BE FUNCTIONING, BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT. All these faves and follows and reviews! I literally love you guys. I got multiple suggestions, like archery, sword fighting, survival courses, all that jazz. I used almost all the suggestions, but had to throw my own curveball at you guys. Chapter's short, but the awaited competition is in the next chapter. Standard disclaimer applied.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

News of the challenge caught like a wildfire on a particularly hot day. Within the hour, elves were congregating around to see what the whole commotion was about. Elrond sighed, knowing his sons would probably instigate something somehow. They had always been pranksters at heart.

Thorin, on the other hand, was not nearly as resigned to this. He hunted his nephews down, and pulled them away from the growing crowd with rough hands.

"What do you two think you're doing?!" Thorin roared at his kin. Kili caved at the tone, but Fili wanted to respond.

"You two are the proud heirs to the throne! Yet, you challenge elves for a girl's hand in marriage!" He spat. "The word dragon follows her wherever she goes! She is not from royalty, much less a dwarrowdam! I taught you better than this!"

Fili winced, but stood tall. "Uncle! Please listen to what we agreed on! We did not ask for her hand in marriage! The two elves were demanding that Miss Eleniel marry them. We couldn't let them do that. It was disgraceful!"

Kili nodded. "Yeah, dwarrowdam or not, no one disrespects a woman!"

Thorin's stormy blue eyes watched the two young dwarflings as they stood up to him. He knew as much as any other dwarf that females were rare, and those who were around were coveted and protected with care and utmost respect. While he absolutely despised the female they were defending, what they were doing was honorable. He had raised them well, despite his earlier accusation.

"Plus, we get to show those elves how much better we are!"

Fili mentally rolled his eyes at the argument his brother presented, but hey, it got the point across. Uncle hated elves, so this was a good way to prove that they were superior regardless of anything. He carefully caught the hate in his uncle's eyes, not sure if it was directed at Eleniel or elves. But, a tiny flare of competition sparked in those stormy orbs, and Fili knew he and his brother won the argument.

Thorin grunted, and turned away to find the rest of the company, his heavy fur cloak trailing after him. Fili and Kili shared a victorious grin, before turning back to the crowd who was eagerly awaiting the upcoming events.

Elladan and Elrohir were conversing with their father, and another young and very beautiful elf maiden whom with which they all shared resemblance.

"You realize you very well may have insulted the courting rituals of both the Dragon Riders and the dwarves of Erebor?" Elrond asked his two sons with a shake of his head.

Neither brother looked embarrassed, but still tucked their heads down.

"Sorry, father. We did not intend for this to become so serious." Elladan, ever the mature one, asked for his father's forgiveness.

The elf lord took it in stride. "You cannot back out of this now. It is an insult if you do. On the bright side, you have opened a possible alliance amongst our people, which is very beneficial, albeit accidental on your part."

He nodded once more, and caught the dwarf brothers attentions with a wave of a hand. "Very well. You will compete, and I and Thorin Oakenshield will judge, as well as a few elves and members of the dwarf company. It can only be fair." Everyone nodded in agreement. It sounded like a good plan.

"Now, what shall we compete in?" Asked Kili.

"That is where I step in."

All eyes turned to face the foreign woman with hair as dark as raven feathers.

"Since I am the Chief of the Dragon Riders, I know and oversee the courting of all my people. In this case, I can not do that, but I _will_ have a say in the activities. You decided to court me, so we shall do it the way the Dovahzoriik have done for thousands of years."

Everyone watched, curious to know more about this secretive race.

"The trails of the _Dovahkulaan*_ and _Dovahkulaas*__,_ are set rules and competitions meant to test the spirit and strength of those who wish to be the companion of the Chief.

"As the Dragon Rider's are of mixed race, carrying blood of men, dwarves, elves, and most importantly, blood of the dragons, this is a fair competition, set for those to compete to excel and fail.

"The rituals are long and complicated. First, one must build a gift of gold and red diamonds. You have skipped over the first and foremost trial," she eyed the four males with exasperated humor. They simultaneously smiled sheepishly. But, Eleniel continued on.

"Then, using wits and physical prowess, those who compete must travel through the Rhûn desert and retrieve a random chosen item safely. Archery, stationary and moving targets, and swordsmanship is the next step. Intellect is challenged by riddles and one of my personal favorites; the representation of the spirit, is singing."

The dwarves and elves murmured. This competition seemed relatively easy, for all the hype the young woman placed on it. She opened her mouth to explain more, and with the next words she said, they realized they spoke too soon.

"Normally, you are pitted against one another, but seeing as you are brothers, I can allow for partnerships. But, this does not make it easier. When you retrieve the item as a team, there will be obstacles. One of you will be blindfolded. The other will lose the sense of hearing. Should you break the rule, "bandits" will attack. Archery shall be done first with stationary items. Then, moving targets shall be placed, and the competitor must hit the bull's-eye. They must also be moving as well."

Sounds of disbelief rang out among the crowd. "These are too difficult," Dwalin grumbled loudly. Eleniel, very proud in the face of criticism, turned to him with narrowed malachite eyes. "I am the Chief of the strongest race east of The Lonely Mountain. It is only sensible that these obstacles are hard; it makes it so only the best come out on top. The competitors must be able to lead my people into both peace and war should I fall."

That terse admittance stopped the complaining quickly.

"Swordsmanship shall involve sparring. Whoever is knocked off their feet first loses. Wit shall be tested by multiple riddles and memorizations and rhetorical situations. You will have to sing a song of your choosing."

"Excuse me, Miss Eleniel?" A voice cried. She turned to the speaker. She was surprised to see it was the beautiful elf maiden who stood by Elrond.

"I understand the physical part of this test, and even the intellectual part, as your partner must be intelligent, but why singing?"

Eleniel nodded, understanding that there were some cultural differences, and the question was quite important.

"Thank you for asking. Singing is an incredibly important part of our culture. Songs are sung at every festival and celebration, and the Chief and their companion often lead these songs. Songs of war, songs of life and joy. There are situations where only the leaders sing, like the contract of dragon and rider, marriage, birth, and many others. It is a very important part of leading the Dragon Riders."

The elf maiden, Arwen, smiled. She quite liked the sound of these people and their strange but interesting ways. It would be nice to have Eleniel as a family member in more ways than distant blood. Elladan and Elrohir shared a look of worry; only Elrohir was gifted with the ability to sing.

Fili was confident in his ability to sing. He had a deep timbre, much like his uncle. Kili, on the other hand, was a mess. He could sing; his voice was a silky, soulful baritone. He could sing up to tenor range, so his capability was not the problem. It was his confidence. He was absolutely terrified at the prospect of standing and singing before a crowd of faces.

"You would usually perform magicka, but I highly doubt any of you know how to do this art, so we shall skip over this challenge." Eleniel explained calmly, despite her racing mind.

She did not wish to be courted, not anytime in the near future. Her heart said a totally different thing, aching for blue eyes catching her own, and scruffy stubble rubbing against the dark skin of her own face, and warm kisses, but she ignored it.

These were difficult challenges, but there was a chance either the dwarf or elf brothers could pull through. What would guarantee their failure? She felt bad thinking in such ways, setting them up to fail, but pushed her guilt away for later.

A idea ignited in her clever mind, and caught like wildfire. "These are all part of the competition, but the most important trail is the most difficult one."

The four males waited on baited breath, eager along with the rest of the crowd to hear the most difficult part of the competition.

"You must ride a dragon."

~Follow. Me. Home.~

OH SNAP. BET YA DIDN'T SEE THAT COMIN'. WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK? ARE YOU AS EXCITED AS I AM? Please leave a review, and a favorite/follow, and take a look at my poll.

Dovahkulaan*= Dragon Prince. "Trails of the Dovahkulaan." Name of the trails a male suitor must partake in to be the companion of the Chief of the Dragon Riders.

Dovahkulaas*= Dragon Princess. "Trails of the Dovahkulaas." Name of the trails a female suitor must partake in to be the companion of the Chief of the Dragon Riders.

Thanks for reading!

Ciao, Anbu-chan


	14. The Trails of the Dovahkulaan Part One

I'M BAAACK. Did you miss me? I'm sorry, I know I was on haitus for forever. I've been very busy. But, this chapter is up so I hope you all enjoy it! It has not been edited so beware for typos. It's actually long guys. Like super long. Well, to me at least.

I don't own the Hobbit.

~Follow. Me. Home.~

The next day, Imladris was up and bustling, a far cry from the usual peace. It was all due to the beautiful woman from far away lands, and the challenge her suitors would face.

The rising sun had Kili and Fili bouncing on the balls of their feet, out of excitement or nervousness was hard to tell. The dwarf company on the other hand, had mixed feelings. Bofur was thrilled to see some excitement, and Ori had his charcoal pencil and paper out and ready. Balin had his pleasant smile ever present on, meanwhile his brother Dwalin, grumbled at the whole predicament.

Dori was nervously fluttering around his youngest brother, and Nori was planning out what he could "take off" the elves hands. Bombur was looking forward to food that wouldn't be just leaves. Thorin was brooding as usual. Bilbo was just confused.

"Wow, this place is really busy. What's going on?" Asked the curious hobbit.

Fili's warm blue orbs searched for the elusive woman who was the center of this entire sudden activity to a normally peaceful town. There was an excited thrum in the air, like even the valley was waiting to see what happened. It was an eccentric feeling, but not an awful one.

"You didn't hear? The lads challenged the elf lords sons to the hand of Miss Eleniel."

Bilbo turned his attention to Bofur, wondering if his leg was being pulled.

"Why would they do that?" He was a bit surprised, Eleniel was certainly beautiful with her apple green eyes, but it didn't seem like something Thorin would allow.

Bofur's countenance turned dark. "The elves disrespected a woman, and the boys corrected that, by challenging them. It was very honorable."

Bilbo shook his head in somewhat understanding. He had been with the company for a short time only, but he knew there were certain things you did not mess with when it came to dwarves. They were very passionate and protective of women and their food.

He watched as the dwarf brothers polished their weapons and tried to make busy as the sun peeked above the treetops. It was probably a few hours away from midday.

"So, where's Miss Eleniel?"

Bofur shrugged. "Haven't seen her. Ask the boys."

And that's exactly what Bilbo did. His big hobbit feet carried him to the youngest dwarves in the company, and asked, "Where's Miss Eleniel?"

Kili looked to his brother, and Fili answered, "I think she mentioned something about magicka and dragons. She said we'd have to ride a dragon, so I'm assuming she's somehow obtaining them."

Dragons? Bilbo blinked, and swallowed, all of a sudden nervous. He remembered the description Bofur had given him, and felt his knees go weak.

"Dragons. Fire-breathing, scaly, winged dragons. You guys are ok with riding them?"

Kili and Fili nodded. "We need to win. We can do this." Fili said.

"And you're not scared?" Bilbo had to give them credit, he was shaking in his boots already.

Kili smiled weakly. "Well, riding a dragon sounds absolutely terrifying, and we are terrified, but I guess we hide it well."

Bilbo began to explain his admiration of their determination, when a willowy elf glided up to them. "Lord Elrond has summoned you. It is time."

Kili and Fili had grim faces, as they packed their respective weapons and stood straight, like proud warriors. The look suited them well, Bilbo decided.

The dwarf company trekked after the brothers, into the training grounds. The large area was made into a makeshift arena, with the crowd on one side, and the courses on the adjacent side.

In the center stood Eleniel, the two elf brothers Elladan and Elrohir, Lord Elrond, and a few other elves.

The beautiful woman was clothed in rich black fabric, much like the ones she wore the first time they met. But instead of covered, the pure gold armor gleamed on her breast, torso and shoulders. Gold accents sat on her forearms and shins. A white, sleeved jacket trailed to nearly her ankles, billowing in the breeze. On the edge of the fabric were flames, red and orange and yellow licking up the cape and sleeves. She looked like a warrior, face grim and arms crossed. It was a far cry from her usual, kind demeanor. Bilbo assumed this is probably what she looked like, leading her people to battle. It was breathtaking in an odd way.

One look at Fili and Kili told him that they were enchanted.

And enchanted they were. Kili could not take his eyes away from her own. She looked so determined and strong, and then and there he realized why it was so important, these trials. Her companion would have to be her equal in every way. He tried to keep the self-doubt from creeping in, but it was hard. Eleniel, in his eyes, was a deity he was so far away from, and one he feared he could never reach, much less win these trials.

It was like his older brother could tell exactly how he felt, and placed a warm hand on his broad shoulder. "It's ok, Kee. We'll be fine."

And Kili found that as he looked into the face of the only dragon rider in the West, he believed those words with a strong conviction.

Lord Elrond silenced the whispering crowd with a raised appendage.

"Welcome to the first ever Dovahkulaan Trails held in the West. We have four strong suitors and challenges that will test their integrity and strength. They are Elladan, my eldest son and heir to Imladris," and said elf came up in front of the crowd.

He shot the elf maidens a charming smile and the crowd noisily clapped. The second brother was introduced next. "Elrohir, my second son, and one of our best warriors."

The second brother, Elrohir settled next to his brother on the left side. He smiled similarly like his brother, and waved to the crowd. The crowd continued to clap.

"Fili, son of Dís, next in line to the throne of Erebor."

Fili came to stand on the right of Elladan, and grinned kindly, his blue orbs twinkling. The dull roar turned to a polite clap, but the dwarf let that fact roll off his back like water.

"Kili, son of Dís, best archer and heir to the throne of Erebor."

The crowd whispered once more as they heard the words "best archer" come from Lord Elrond's mouth. Dwarves were not well known for being talented or preferring a bow as a weapon.

"And this is the Leader of the Dragon Riders, Eleniel Alunfraad, daughter of Hinorben, daughter of Îhdron."

The crowd cheered loudly as the regal woman stepped forward to stand by Kili. She grinned, flashing teeth.

"The males will first pair up, and each retrieve a book that is set a half a mile away, to the east and west. One teammate will be blindfolded, and the other will be unable to hear. They must use teamwork to retrieve their books safely within an hour and team that returns shall win this challenge."

Lord Elrond held the cotton for blocking sound, and Thorin held the blindfolds.

Elladan took the cotton and Elrohir took the blindfold. Kili was quick to take the hearing impairments for out of the two brothers, he had the sharper eyes, and the better tracking skills. Fili took the blindfold. He had relatively good hearing, and it would only improve with the lack of a vital sense.

The pairs were lead to different gates winding out of the city. The dwarf brothers had west, and the elf brothers had east. With a loud bellow of the horn, one that even the cotton could not block out, they were off and into the deep forest.

Kili took a hold of Fili's hand, knowing they were at the disadvantage in this challenge. Despite having great sight and hearing respectively, the dwarf brothers had no clue what the terrain was. That was only enhanced, when Fili stumbled over a protruding tree root.

Unable to hear himself well, he said loudly to his blond brother, "Fee, we can't do this without communicating. I can talk to you and you can hear me, but I can't hear you. Let's use iglishmêk."

Fili nodded and used his mouth and hands to sign out what he wanted to say.

"Sounds good."

Kili nodded and took his brothers hand once more, letting him know where the roots and rocks and branches were. Despite their efforts, they were going really slow.

Fili perked up, and started signing again.

"I think I hear a river. Isn't that where our scroll is?"

Kili smiled, and looked forwards. His brother was right. Slits of shimmering silver peeked through the underbrush, the sun reflecting its light off the water. They quickly moved forwards.

"It's right here, Fili. Just four paces forwards." The old looking book was now within their grasp. The two brothers stepped into the shallow river and grasped at the old book standing on a platform in the center of the water.

The platform was dry, and Kili grabbed it. He nearly slipped, but his brother was his anchor on the slimy pebbles.

"Come on, let's get back." Kili's keen gaze found all the tracks that they made, and followed them back. He turned to his brother as they walked and said, "How much time do you think we've made?"

Fili shrugged. "From the heat of the sun, I'd guess maybe a quarter of an hour." With that time frame set, they walked faster, still unable to run and unfamiliar with the trail they were on.

The two made it back just in the nick of time, but behind the two elf brothers. A defeated look crossed their faces briefly as they took off their sense invalidations, realizing they had been beaten. But, they saw the smirks on the elves faces and the quiet encouragement of Eleniel, and their determination fortified. They would win this. They had four more challenges to win.

"Next shall be the archery. Only one teammate can participate in this."

Kili immediately stepped forwards, albeit a little nervous. He knew he was good at archery, but as good as an elf who had years and years of classic training? Kili had made his own bows in the past and never had any official teacher, just his own instinct.

Elrohir smirked condescendingly at the nervous dark haired dwarf. "Don't cry when I win."

Kili scoffed, hiding his inner feelings once more. "As if I'd lose to you of all people."

Before any more insults could be exchanged, they were given identical bows and a dozen arrows.

The training area had six targets placed with red paint signifying the bullseye.

Elrohir was the first to go. He readied his bow, and shot the arrows rapidly, and with excellent precision.

The crowd cheered for their lord's son, and Elrond had a pleased look on his face. Thorin sat by the elf king and watched with a calm look on his face. He knew his nephew would win this challenge.

It was Kili's turn now. He exhaled steadily, and notched an arrow. Standing like stone, he stared down his target. The wind was blowing slightly to the left, so he would have to make up for it by over aiming to the right. With another deep breath, he let the arrow fly loose, the feathers brushing just so on his cheekbone.

The arrow landing with a thunk, a little off from the center. That wouldn't do.

Kili prepared his next shot once more, and let it fly. It hit dead center, slicing through the already existent arrow presiding in the target. The onlookers were silent with awe.

The next four targets went just like the second. All of Elrohir's arrows were spliced in half by the strength and precision of Kili's archery. Once that was over, the crowd cheered loudly for the promising dwarf.

"He's incredibly talented," One elf in the crowd remarked. Thorin let a smile pull ever so slightly at his thin lips.

Elrohir was beginning to worry, but tried to keep calm. Since when did dwarves specialize in archery? It was very uncommon. He had come into this section with no worries, but he was being proven wrong.

"Now, onto the moving targets."

Elrohir set his face in grim determination. He was a proud elf, son of the great Lord Elrond. The elves were known for their archery skills and he was not about to be bested by some dwarvish child who had no business to interfere with their customs in the first place!

Eleniel nodded to the side of the court and several horses were led onto the grass two hundred yards away from the archers. Each horse had a rider on its back, and each rider had a helmet with a crisp red apple balanced on the top.

"Though a little….unorthodox than what my people normally do, in this circumstance I felt like this would be appropriate for the moving target portion of the archery challenge. There are six riders. At my signal, the horses are going to gallop, and that is when you must try to spear the apple of the riders head. At the end of five minutes, I will have them cease and whoever has speared the most apples will be victor of this challenge portion," She explained to Kili and Elrohir.

They nodded. Kili was nervous but tried to still stand tall, like he knew his uncle wanted. He chanced a look at his brother standing with Elladan. Fili gave him a small nod and encouraging smile. His brother believed in him. Right now, that was all he needed.

"Ready to fail yet another test, little dwarfling?" Elrohir smirked as they both turned to face the horses.

"Ready to be shown up in your own court again, elf?" Kili spat back, taking pride in the barely visible angry flush that crept onto his opponents cheeks.

"Archers, ready. Set!" Eleniel made a sharp motion with her hand and suddenly the horses broke into a vicious gallop around the two. Kili and Elrohir were set in the middle of a whirling storm.

Kili pulled his bow and focused, trying to block out the dust and panic that was slowly building. He let the string go and shot at a passing rider, spearing the apple. He heard Elrohir fire rapidly behind him. Kili took another arrow and shot as another went past. Again and again he fired, never exactly knowing if he hit the mark or if he was firing blind. At long last, suddenly, the horses stopped. Kili saw that every apple was speared, but he couldn't tell which of the six were his.

The riders dismounted and stood, helmets off, in front of Eleniel. She walked down the line and examined each apple, each arrow really, and then re-took her place. She could tell the slight difference of the arrows from the feathers on the end of each one. Kili had falcon feathers and Elrohir had osprey.

"This challenge….goes to Kili, who shot four apples to Elrohir's two."

Amidst cries of shock and disbelief, and calls of favoritism, Kili heard loud cheers and impressed calls for the dwarf that beat and elf at archery. He saw his uncle looking down on him, a smile clearly evident, which only made that moment happier. Not only had Kili won, but he had bested an elf at something they claimed to call their own right. He and Fili wouldn't so easily be beaten.

"Next is swordsmanship. Please step forward," Eleniel called out again.

This was turning out to be much more interesting than she had originally thought. Fili and Kili were quite a match for Elladan and Elrohir, and they had only just begun. Kili had shot his bow, so now Fili would trade sword blows against Elladan.

"Each will have one sword, as of fairness due to different styles of training. The rules are set to be that the last one on his feet will be victor. That being said, the other must go down and _remain _down. This is not a death match. No fatal blows, no major wounds, and any move deemed an unfair foul will be resulted in an immediate loss. Is that clear?" Elrond announced.

Elladan bowed his head respectfully to his father. Fili nodded after, his eyes focused on Thorin for a moment then to Eleniel and then finally to his brother. Despite not trusting Elladan one bit, he would not be caught playing dirty and using tricks and cheats to win. He was a Durin, and could win on strength alone. Fili hefted his solitary sword. This was his specialty. He was used to fighting opponents twice his size and more. Let's just see how much Elladan underestimated the dwarven heir.

This time, Thorin moved to the front line and focused his eyes on his eldest nephew. Kili had done brilliant in the challenge before, and he was proud that his reckless, more hot headed nephew had held his own and stood his ground. Now it was Fili's turn.

"Prepare. Begin." Thorin's low growl echoed through court and the two swordsmen rushed at once.

All Fili had to do was stay on his feet. He decided that he would do well to reserve his strength and energy at first, and began a defensive stance. Elladan was not entirely comfortable with such a smaller opponent in height. His usual opponents were either his elf kin or orcs who were even taller than elves. Regardless, he had the height advantage. Alright, he can use this. The elf swung high and his sword carried down swift and hard, but he found himself stabbing at nothing. Fili had ducked and rolled to the side, positioning himself behind him, and swung the blunt edge of his own sword at the elf's feet. Elladan jumped quickly and propelled himself off the trunk of a nearby tree and whirled around to face his dwarvish challenger. Because of the height problem, Elladan had to exert himself more to swing his sword down to Fili's level. Fili had to laugh. The calm demeanor of this royal elf was gone and was left with a frustrated, angry young heir.

"You think this is funny, dwarf?"

"Very," Fili shot back pompously.

Fili knew what to do in fights. He knew that opponents who were fueled by their anger were more likely to make mistakes and show the cracks in their armor. They tended to be predictable, and sloppy. That always worked in Fili's favor. But, other opponents became unpredictable when their weaknesses are exploited. When those said weaknesses are exploited, unpredictable enemies become desperate ones. And desperate was dangerous.

Fili swiftly parried the strong blow coming from above. Gritting his teeth, he pressed back, feeling the pressure of Elladan baring down on his sword. For a few seconds they remained still, a battle of pure strength ensuing. Fili bent his knees, and pushed up with all his might, dislodging Elladan from his position. They jumped back, and began to circle one another. Fili watched his opponent. Elladan didn't seem to be tired, but the sweat on his brow told another story. The blond dwarf knew that if the battle continued on like this, he'd tire easily.

He scanned his surroundings, an idea coming to him. It just might work…

"Do you really think you could beat me, elf?" The loud shout jarred Elladan's concentration, and Fili zoomed in under his guard. He swiped his sword as far as it could go, just nicking the fabric of the willowy elf's tunic.

Predictably, the elf jumped back, and Fili followed, unrelenting in his attacks. He slashed to the right, and stabbed at his ribcage, and Elladan, ever quick on his feet, evaded his sword range. Elladan twirled, and moved more to the left, being pushed back.

"Soon you'll get tired if you continue like this!" Elladan shouted. "Not likely!" Fili called back, and went in for the final blow. He swiped at Elladan's feet, a move very much like the one he originally tried. Elladan knew this, and knew the move would not work, so he smirked. He jumped back, expecting level ground, only for his feet to meet jagged earth.

He lost his balance, and Fili took the opportunity to use the flat, broad side of his sword to push him off his feet without injuring him. Elladan fell, and Fili stuck to him like glue, placing the tip of his sword to the elf's chest so he couldn't move.

The crowd was completely silent. Eyes wide, everyone stared in shock. Fili had won fair and square, and showed intelligence by using the rocky terrain to his advantage.

Roars of praise came from the dwarf company, and the elves followed. While the elves were proud, the dwarf brothers were prodigious, and the battles were fair. Perhaps the downfall of the elves was the fact that they greatly underestimated the young Durin brothers. It was proven to be a fatal mistake.

The three judges did not need to declare a winner, and Fili reached out, willing to help Elladan up.

"Let's see how well worded you are, dwarf. A life in the forges hardly prepares you in intellect for riddles and mind games," the elf sneered as he ignored the hand and shouldered Fili out of the way.

Fili shrugged and headed back to his cheering brother, but instead of calm over his easy win, he was nervous. Elladan was right, however much he hated to admit it. He and Kili had lived their childhood with their uncle in the forges, training with weapons and becoming reclaimed warriors and princes of Erebor. They knew math and history and literature, but it was simple. And to top it off, most of the things they knew culturally was dwarvish, obviously. Fili studied a lot more than Kili, who ran off during Balin's lessons, but neither had extensive learning that was necessary of a prince. That would wait until after they reclaimed their home. Meanwhile, Lord Elrond's sons were scholars as well as warriors. This challenge wouldn't be so easy to win.

"Nice job, brother!" Kili laughed, slapping Fili hard on his shoulder. "We might actually beat those pompous prissy's in their own court!" He let out another barking laugh.

Fili had to smile at his little brother. Kili always did have a way of cheering anybody up. It was his nature to be so carefree and reckless. As the second heir, the throne didn't fall directly onto his shoulders after Thorin, and though still a prince, he was more or less able to be more of a kid than Fili was. Not that it would help either of them much in the next challenge.

The two pairs stood together and faced Eleniel, flanked by Thorin on one side and Lord Elrond on the other. Kili caught his uncle's eye and grinned cheekily. Thorin gave him a pointed look as if to say, _Don't get cocky just yet. _That only made him grin wider before moving his gaze over to the elven king. Elrond had his eyes focused with disappointment at his sons, though his face remained blank. The elven princes were just as stoic. Finally he looked at the girl who was the cause of it all: Eleniel.

Her beautiful green eyes glowed in the early morning sunlight. She must've noticed his staring for she turned those ethereal orbs to meet his. He felt so dizzy, so happy. Thankfully, no one could read minds so Kili was safe to think his sappy thoughts without rebuttal.

She turned to Elrond, who then nodded and spoke up. "This next challenge will measure the minds of the contestants and their capability to think logically. Each judge will present riddles that the teams must beat. Boys, step forward."

The elf and dwarf brothers stepped forwards in unison. They faced the judges with grim expressions for different reasons, but they were grim nonetheless.

Thorin stepped forwards, his stormy grey eyes scanning the youthful faces of the brothers before him. His keen mind was moving rapidly, searching for a riddle that his nephews might know. He didn't want them to be participating in the contest, but he certainly didn't want them to lose to _elves. _

"In the morning I walk on four legs. In the afternoon, I walk on two legs. In the evening, I walk on three legs. What am I?"

The two dwarf brothers immediately started to talk in hushed tones, the harsh Germanic sound of Khuzdul barely audible.

"**What could possibly have that many legs?" **Kili hissed.

"**Something that evolves; changes." **Fili answered.

"**What starts with four legs? Animals. But they don't walk on two legs… We do!" **Kili exclaimed excitedly to his fair brother who quickly caught on.

"It's the stages of a man's life." The dwarf brothers turned to the elves, who had beaten them by a hairs breath.

Thorin grumpily nodded. He knew his nephews had that one.

Elrond stepped towards the boys as well. "A natural state, I'm sought by all. Go without me, and you shall fall. You do me when you spend,

and use me when you eat to no end. What am I?"

The elf brothers had barely a second to think before Fili and Kili shared a look. The younger of the two opened his mouth and said, "Balance."

Elrond and most of the crowd blinked at how easily that was answered. Fili on the other hand was laughing on the inside. How many times had he and his brother stuffed themselves so much that they relied on balance and the help of each other to walk home? Too many times to count.

"This is the last of the riddles. Whoever wins this one will have another point."

Gandalf suddenly stepped forwards as well, his robes billowing in the wind. "I will offer this last riddle," he said, grey eyes twinkling merrily. No one objected and he continued.

"The man who invented it, doesn't want it. The man who bought it, doesn't need it. The man who needs it, doesn't know it. What is it?"

Kili and Fili shared looks. They wouldn't get this one in time. They were certainly smart dwarves, but they preferred to think thoroughly on answers. The elected were much more nimble with twisted words.

"A coffin."

Gandalfs grey eyes twinkled. "You would be correct."

Eleniel nodded, her silky black hair swishing in the wind. "This challenge goes to Elladan and Elrohir."

The two elves looked smug with the win. Kili rolled his eyes and Fili huffed. "Just they wait. We'll beat them at singing." Kili nodded, somewhat hesitantly.

The foreign dragon rider wasted no time jumping into the next challenge. "You will all have to sing now."

Kili and Fili shared looks. They were good singers; that gene ran in the family. Fili walked over to his stuffed pack at the edge of the crowd where his kin stood, and grabbed his fiddle. He also brought Kili his violin, making his way back to the center.

Kili raised his hand. " We'll go first," he volunteered.

Eleniel nodded, her emerald eyes sparkling and curious to the talent these dwarves may have. It was obvious they were good with instruments, just from the way they were holding them, preparing to play the song.

The two brothers looked at each other and struck the bows of their instruments together, creating a beautiful harmony. They too layered in their voices to make a four part harmony, Kili taking the tenor note, and Fili the bass.

Fili then started the chorus in a surprisingly warm baritone timbre.

"_Oh, there's a river that winds on forever, _

_I'm gonna see where it leads. _

_Oh, there's a mountain that no man has mounted,_

_I'm gonna stand on the peak. _

_Out there's a land that time don't command, Wanna be the first to arrive. _

_No time for ponderin' why I'm-a wanderin', _

_Not while we're both still alive." _

Meanwhile Fili was singing the melody, Kili was switching between higher and lower harmonies, adding variety to the upbeat song.

__"_To the ends of the earth, would you follow me?  
There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see. _

_To the ends of the earth, would you follow me? _

_If you will have a say my goodbyes to me."_

Kili then took over, singing in a raspy tenor, slightly shaky with nerves. It quickly went away as he locked eyes with Eleniel. She wasn't smiling, but her eyes were a very different story. He just knew she was happy.

__"_Oh, there's an island where all things are silent,_

_I'm gonna whistle a tune._

_Oh, there's a desert that size can't be measured,_

_I'm gonna count all the dunes. _

_Out there's a world that calls for me, love, _

_Headin' out into the unknown. _

_Well if there are strangers, and all kinds of danger,  
Please don't say I'm going alone."_

The two brothers played their instruments beautifully, bodies lilting and feet stomping to keep a beat. They truly enjoyed the music they were playing.

__"_To the ends of the earth, would you follow me? There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see. _

_To the ends of the earth, would you follow me?  
Well if you want, I will say my goodbyes to me."_

For the chorus and the ending they both switched intermittently between harmony and melody, soft smiles on their faces.

__"_I was a-ready to die for you, baby. _

_Doesn't mean I'm ready to stay. _

_What good is livin' a life you've been given, _

_If all you do is stand in one place?  
I'm on a river that winds on forever, _

_Follow 'til I get where I'm goin'. _

_Maybe I'm headin' to die but I'm still gonna try, _

_I guess I'm goin' alone." _

When the song was done, all was quiet. Everyone was in a trance by the wild beauty of the song. Shortly after, the crowd burst into loud cheers. Dwarves or not, elves appreciated good music when they heard it!

While Fili and Kili were proudly taking in all the applause and the quietly happy eyes of their uncle, Elrohir and Elladan were starting to feel pressure.

Elrohir stepped forwards and grabbed the harp that sat on the ground. He began to strum, while Elladan began to play the flute. Elrohir began and sang,

"_Sing all ye joyful, now sing all together!  
The wind s in the free-top, the wind s in the heather;  
The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower,  
And bright are the windows of Night in her tower."  
_Then, Elladan started to sing, keeping his face as peaceful as possible so not to project the panic he was truly feeling.

"_Dance all ye joyful, now dance all together!  
Soft is the grass, and let foot be like feather!  
The river is silver, the shadows are fleeting;  
Merry is May-time, and merry our meeting." _

He was not awful at all, but a little pitchy. Elrohir hummed the melody softly, for his dear brother to hear, but Elladan's nerves didn't him help much.

"_Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave him!  
Wind him in slumber and there let us leave him!  
The wanderer sleepeth. Now soft be his pillow!  
Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Willow!_

_Sigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn!  
Fall Moon! Dark be the land!  
Hush! Hush! Oak, Ash, and Thorn!  
Hushed be all water, till dawn is at hand!"_

Elrohir took care of the rest of the singing, while his brother played the flute beautifully. While the dwarf brothers had a wild, enchanting feel to their song, the elf brothers song had a calming, homely affect. The crowd cheered once again, having forgotten Elladan's slight mistake in the overall sound of the song.

Eleniel stood with Gandalf, Elrond and Thorin in a circle. They talked in hushed whispers, before pulling a few standing elves and two dwarves into the mix.

The competing males eyes each other warily. Both groups were unsure of who would win this round. Fili crossed his fingers, praying to Mahal he and his brother would win.

Eleniel turned around again, the flames on the white cape flickering and dancing like they were alive in the wind. "It has been chosen. The winner's are Kili and Fili."

The two brothers shouted in joy, hugging each other before being pulled into a group hug with the other dwarves. They were one win ahead!

As they cheered, Elladan and Elrohir sulked quietly, their egos bruised.

When the dwarves were done cheering, and the elves done politely clapping, Eleniel got everyone's attention once more.

"Now it is time. The most important and difficult challenge has come. Dragon-riding."

As she said this, she motioned for everyone to step back. She kneeled to the ground and pulled out a scroll from her pack. She placed it on the ground and unrolled it, biting her finger and placing the blood on the clean paper. Suddenly, a spark of blue lightning, and a plume of smoke covered the entire area. As the wind swept away the smoke, four impressive figures appeared from the cloud.

Gasps of shock and exclamations of fear filled the area as people got a good look of the four dragons standing before them. Kili and Fili gulped.

~*~Omake~*~

The dwarves all huddled around the fire, roasting sausages they somehow produced from nowhere. Eleniel watched with keen eyes, the delicious smell reaching her nose easily.

A dwarf with a funny hat, Bofur she remembered, caught her eye and smiled cheerily. "Miss Eleniel, would you like some?"

Eleniel saw the nasty glares of the other dwarves, and was about to politely decline, when her stomach chimed in.

You didn't have to have specifically good hearing to hear it.

Eleniel was glad for the cover of darkness, or else her cheeks would be glowing. Some of the friendlier dwarves in the company laughed.

"It would appear my stomach is speaking for me. Thank you very much," she said as she stepped forwards to sit closer to the fire.

Bofur patted the spot next to him, and handed her a sausage and potato in a bowl. "So, a dragon rider, eh?" He and Eleniel ignored the minute tensing of bodies around them. She nodded. "Yes."

"Tell me," He leaned in. "Do you know Hiccup?"

~*~Omake~*~

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review and favorite/follow. :) I'll update as soon as possible.

**Ciao, Anbu-chan **


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